


Red Strings

by Sillysbarka16



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Deadpool being Deadpool, FBI Agent Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Oblivious Peter Parker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-02
Updated: 2021-03-02
Packaged: 2021-03-15 00:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29800389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sillysbarka16/pseuds/Sillysbarka16
Summary: Peter Parker has been investigating a new series of robberies when two new FBI agents show up on the scene. Neither can solve the case without the other, so they begin to pool their resources and work together.Who would've thought Spider Man and a pair of FBI agents could work together?Or:Peter and Stiles have been online friends for years and meet in person and don't realise it.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Peter Parker & Wade Wilson, Peter Parker/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Red Strings

**Author's Note:**

> A bit different from my usual posted collection, though sometimes to read what we want, one has to write it first.

There truly was nothing better after a long day of work then swinging the streets of New York with your best friend at your side. There was the usual level of banter between the two, the competitiveness they both experienced raging through their veins.

Peter would always win, of course. He was Spider Man.

It was an unusually quiet night, which was _never_ a good sign. Peter had come to appreciate the little, petty crimes, after having dealt with saving the _universe_. Fortunately for him, he now had one of his closest friends at his side through most of his patrols.

Deadpool was singing as they landed atop a skyscraper, his body moving joyfully to the music in his head. Spider Man cocked his head slightly, amused at the song choice.

“You got a problem with Shakira?”

Spider Man shrugged, “not at all.”

Deadpool, in true _Deadpool_ fashion, sang louder and _prouder_. Spider Man would never admit it.

He joined in.

In his defence, _Hips Don’t Lie_ is a great song.

As their duet came to an untimely end (“Deadpool, those _aren’t_ the lyrics!”) Peter saw a message pop up behind his mask. He instinctively instructed his Karen to open it, reading it silently to himself as Deadpool stared at him curiously.

“Ooh, who’s distracting you? An Ex? Ransom? A lover?”

Even behind the mask, Peter could _see_ Deadpool’s eyes wag at the statement, Spider Man’s own eyes rolling without his consent. _Deadpool_.

“Doesn’t matter, don’t they know it’s Deadpool time?”

Spider Man laughed at that, “it’s my pen pal, you know the one.”

Deadpool hummed, “oh yes, what does our dear _LittleRedSparky_ want?”

“He’s not _ours_. But he wants to know my opinion on his most recent investigation.”

“Nerd.”

Spider Man grinned. He couldn’t exactly deny that, could he? By day, he worked for none other then Tony Stark at Stark Industries, working in the labs _alongside Iron Man and Bruce Banner._ By night, he worked as the infamous Spider Man, alongside the mercenary Deadpool. It hadn’t been his first choice, but he’d become closer than he’d imagined possible to the mercenary.

“Let me guess, you’re leaving me for him.”

Deadpool made a dramatic show of throwing his hand over his forehead, throwing himself backwards, almost over the edge of the building. Spider Man could only roll his eyes, amused. He once might have been annoyed by Deadpool’s inane behaviours, the irritating ways he pestered Spider Man, but Peter had come to love his weirdness. It was even welcomed.

“Nah, not yet. He’ll be asleep soon anyway. Besides, we still need to have a decider match.”

“Oh, you _do_ love me.”

***

Peter threw his suit haphazardly onto the floor as he returned home, flopping ungracefully over his bed with a groan. Curse Deadpool and his unnatural healing abilities. Curse Deadpool for igniting all of Peter’s competitiveness with a single smirk.

He didn’t exactly have the energy to respond to his internet friend, which was unfortunate. He rather enjoyed talking to Stiles.

They’d been internet friends since the pair were in high school, both the same age. They’d met through an internet support forum for science kids, Stiles wanting assistance with something Peter was _well_ versed in.

Genetic mutations.

Since then, they’d been communicating regularly. Stiles had graduated school with excellent grades, apparently thanks to Peter’s help in science (he wasn’t too convinced, Stiles was a _genius_ ). He’d moved on and been accepted into an FBI training program, one that had him living in his local city and away from his hometown.

Peter wasn’t given all the details, unsurprisingly. Though occasionally Stiles would message him regarding the _specifics_ of a scientific question with absolutely no background and Peter would help where he could.

They balanced each other out too. Peter would ask him questions about other things, where his own mind lacked. He couldn’t tell Stiles he worked at Stark Industries though. He was in much the same boat of confidentiality when it came to specifics.

There was one thing Peter would never admit out loud to _anyone_ : he had a crush on _LittleRedSparky_.

That didn’t do it justice.

It was more than a simple crush.

He was fine though. It never affected his work. It never affected his _other work_. He was able to function even with having a crush over some guy he’d never _met_.

Peter was fairly confident Deadpool knew, what with the incessant teasing whenever he mentioned Stiles. Deadpool was excellent to have around though. He may be a flirt, an irritating tease, but he meant well. To Peter, at least. He couldn’t say the same for the criminals he killed (sorry, _unalived_ ).

Given he had work the next morning, he decided sleep was probably the solution. He could help Stiles tomorrow.

***

“Stiles, you up?”

Said man groaned, grumbling into his pillow as his housemate yelled at him from the kitchen, presumably fixing his own breakfast.

“You _know_ I wasn’t!”

“Get up, we’re late.”

Stiles glared at his pillow, punching it just so, then tumbling out of bed. Who decided he should have to live with Derek, anyway? (he knew the answer: Scott, his own _father_ , his squad, the pack). He may be a human, but he wasn’t _useless_ , Scott.

It didn’t bother him, truthfully. Honestly, he rather liked living with Derek. As grumpy as Derek outwardly appeared, he was as loyal as they came. Derek had even taken to working alongside him in the FBI (Stiles _was_ aware the reason was because he didn’t trust Stiles to not get himself killed).

He threw on some clothes haphazardly, patting his hair down as best he could, then grabbed his phone and made his way to the kitchen. Derek had (blissfully) made him a cup of coffee, one he downed.

“Any word from Peter?”

Stiles shrugged, then opened his communications with Peter, _RedBlueGenes35_. His internet friend from years ago, back when Scott had just become a werewolf. Peter had been incredibly helpful, even without actually knowing why he needed the information. He and Peter had maintained consistent contact and Stiles would be lying if he said he didn’t love it (him, specifically).

There was a response, one that had Stiles’ eyes widening, “geez, how didn’t we think of that?”

He showed his phone to Derek, who nodded calmly, “this is why we have him around.”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “he doesn’t even know you exist.”

“You’ve told him about me, Stiles.”

The human winced at that; Derek wasn’t supposed to know! It wasn’t that Stiles had an issue with telling Peter personal things, far from it. It was the name he’d always used when referring to Derek.

As far as Peter was aware, Stiles was living with a man called ‘sour wolf’.

“Come on, we’ve got a killer to catch and a case to close.”

Derek followed Stiles through the apartment and down the lifts. They had to live in an apartment now, living in a city. Derek never complained, though Stiles knew it bothered him. So much constant noise. He would never admit how much he appreciated having him around though.

The werewolf drove, of course he did. He _refused_ to let Stiles even close to the driver’s seat. Stiles understood it. He’d had to leave his beloved jeep in Beacon Hills with strict instructions to ‘ _keep her running, whatever you do_ ’. Scott gave him constant updates on the vehicle, much to his joy.

Work was as interesting as ever. Derek and Stiles had desks close to each other, the both of them sharing their cases and any information they could find. Their boss was rather impressed with their teamwork in the field and in the office, having no idea Stiles and Derek had known each other for years before working together.

“Stiles, a word?”

Said employee looked up at the face of his boss, who was gesturing towards his office where Derek was clearly already waiting. Stiles’ face heated up.

He’d forgotten their meeting.

He hurried to close his computer in case anyone wanted to see his confidential files and briskly entered John’s office, taking a seat beside Derek. The werewolf lifted an eyebrow at Stiles’ appearance, though said nothing.

“As you know, there has been a rise in stolen Stark technologies as of late, the FBI department of New York have requested back up from our department.”

This was not news to Stiles. He had been silently hoping for this opportunity since it’d come up two weeks ago.

John looked to Stiles, then at Derek, “I would like to send you two, as you’re both my best detectives and I believe you will have the most success in the New York environment.”

Stiles’ eyes widened, almost unable to believe what he was hearing. “Seriously?”

John nodded, not even phased by Stiles’ enthusiasm, not after so many years of the spontaneous outbursts Stiles did. If it meant he got the case solved, he could do as many cartwheels as he liked.

“Provided you are happy to, I’m not sure how long the assignment will last. The department has granted funding for a 12-month period already.”

Stiles’ blinked, that was a long time. This must be a bigger project then they were letting on. He supposed, given it was dealing with a literal avenger, it probably had a _tonne_ of classified information. Stiles was more surprised it had been brought to the FBI; didn’t Tony Stark have an abundance of private security details? Not to mention the fact he was _literally Iron Man_.

“I accept.”

Stiles blinked at Derek, brought back to the present by the werewolf who knew him _too well_. He shook himself off, then nodded in agreement. “it could be fun.”

John nodded, “I will have Natalie look into accommodation for you.”

The duo left the office, heading to their respective desks. Stiles still had a case to finish, a criminal to catch. Derek stood by Stiles as he compiled the final paperwork and proudly presented it to Derek, who gave it a once over.

“Looks like enough evidence to me.”

Stiles grinned, “Peter said you’d say that.”

Derek said nothing, though he took the paperwork to the appropriate employee who quickly assembled them a small police team to go to the location Stiles had been able to pinpoint with Peter’s assistance.

“Let’s go catch us a bad guy!”

***

“What does one pack when we’re leaving for potentially up to 12 months?”

Derek rolled his eyes, “we’ll have access to a washing machine.”

“Oh, yeah.”

They went back to silently packing, tidying their apartment as they went. Stiles would never admit it, but he wasn’t the neatest person. He had files all over the place, a cork board with red string stuck in pin holes from all the cases he’d solved with it.

It didn’t take long to pack, not when Derek didn’t own many things and Stiles’ idea of packing was throwing everything from his wardrobe into his suitcase and hoping it fit. They wouldn’t need to take furniture and they _would_ be returning to this place, so all they needed was to cover their furniture in sheets to prevent them from collecting dust.

“This is so exciting! We might even get to see the Avengers!”

“Let’s hope not.”

“Spoil sport.”

Stiles called his hometown best friend the night before his departure, Scott enthusiastically congratulating him. He somehow knew Derek was listening and made sure Derek knew he had to protect Stiles from anything Avenger level threat.

If an Avenger level threat popped up whilst Stiles was in New York, he’d probably be right in the middle of the action. That’s just Stiles luck.

“You’re going to the airport tomorrow, right?”

“Yep, flights at noon.”

“Sweet, Malia and I are coming up. I think Lydia said she would too, Liam and Theo too perhaps.”

“You don’t have to, Scott. I’ll come visit when I have the chance.”

Scott tutted, “my best friend is moving to New York, I’m coming to the airport. Someone has to.”

Derek made a noise in the background and Scott laughed, “someone other then Derek. He doesn’t count.”

“Oh, maybe we’ll get to meet another pack, there’s a New York one, right?”

Derek shook his head, “too loud.”

Stiles winced at that, forgetting Derek’s hearing was infinitely better then his own. He didn’t know _how_ he’d managed to forget, given Derek made a point of reminding him. Was this really the best thing for Derek? He didn’t have to come.

“No new supernatural’s, then. That’s disappointing. But maybe we can meet Spider Man, or any of the other mutants!”

“I find that unlikely,” Scott said, though he then said (as the supportive best friend he was) “maybe you’ll get lucky though.”

Stiles grinned, “with my luck I’ll meet them because I’m on a train that’s about to explode.”

“Why would you even _say_ that?” Scott asked, clearly shaking his head.

Stiles shrugged.

“Oh, but doesn’t that weird magic doctor person live in New York?” he wasn’t sure why he was asking. He knew the answer. He’d known the moment Doctor Strange became an Avenger. He made it his business to know as much about the Avengers as possible, call it a side hobby. He was even close to figuring out who Spider Man’s secret identity was, not that he’d ever tell anybody of course. Purely for his own curiosity.

“You’d know better then any of us, Stiles,” Scott said cheerfully.

Derek frowned, clearly seeing through Stiles (he was fairly transparent), “we won’t have time.”

“You don’t know that I might actually be able to learn something. Goodness knows anything would be better then Deaton.”

Derek silently agreed, though Scott verbally did so, “he’s an odd one, but hey, least he tried!”

“He really didn’t.”

They talked some more before Stiles decided he needed to go to bed. Scott hung up first, after asking Malia to say hello on the phone. Stiles greeted her then hung up, throwing himself back on the couch.

“You don’t have to come to New York, you know.”

“I know.”

Stiles frowned, “I don’t want you to be miserable. Well, _more_ miserable.”

Derek looked at him with a pained expression at the horrible attempt for a joke, “I’ll be fine. I’d rather _you_ didn’t go to the city where they sell t-shirts that advertise, they _survived_ , but there’s no convincing you.”

“Nope.”

“So, I’m coming with you.”

“You’re not actually my protector, you know. I can handle myself.”

Derek shrugged, “I know, Stiles. You’re a better fighter then me most days, but sometimes you forget to watch out when you’re on a case.”

He had a point. Stiles was incredibly single minded on a case, after all. He saw the end goal and got there, forgetting safety was a thing. He’d been worse before, at least now he was only dealing with humans.

His phone chimed in his pocket and he withdrew it, heart doing a small skip as he recognised who it was.

 _ RedBlueGenes35:  _ _howd the case go?_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _done and dusted!_

 _ RedBlueGenes35:  _ _glad to hear it! Hope my notes helped_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _you know they did_

 _ RedBlueGenes35:  _ _got the bad guys?_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _in the bag! Got a new assignment – moving to NY!_

 _ RedBlueGenes35:  _ _Oh wow! We should meet up and have coffee somewhere!_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _Only if I can shake the sour wolf, he’s coming too. Apparently, he doesn’t trust me in NY._

 _ RedBlueGenes35:  _ _XD, NY is a very strange place! You’ll love it!_

 _ LittleRedSparky:  _ _you’ll have to give me the grand tour, huh_

 _ RedBlueGenes35:  _ _I’d love that! I know all the best shops!_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _excellent, I’ll try and ditch the sour wolf and we can hang out!_

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _you’re not worried I’m secretly an axe murderer?_

 _ LittleRedSparky _ _: didn’t cross my mind, are you?_

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _not yet, there’s still time though right?_

Stiles laughed as he texted his internet friend, grateful to have him to talk to. Peter was a very funny man, and incredibly smart. He’d always lived in New York, had mentioned it to Stiles when they’d first started talking. Queens, apparently.

Stiles wasn’t sure Peter should’ve been giving out personal information to a total stranger on the internet, but at this point in their rather unusual friendship, Stiles didn’t even care. They’d hopefully meet up in person soon.

The thought stumped him for a moment, looking up from a meme Peter had sent through. He might _meet Peter_. In person. He could hear his voice. See his face. Actually _get to know him_. What would that be like?

Stiles actually found himself getting excited over it.

“You good, Stiles?”

“Perfect, Der!”

Derek grumbled at the nickname (success!) and returned to whatever book he was reading, leaving Stiles alone to his increasing panic/excitement.

He could meet Peter. Pros: Peter had been his friend for years! He was a genius! Cons: they’d been friends for _years_ and never actually met, what if Peter decided he didn’t like how Stiles looked and decided they couldn’t be friends? If he decided Stiles wasn’t worth it anymore?

Nonsense.

It was all nonsense; Peter was a cool person.

He’d known that since Peter had sent him a photo of the millennium falcon he’d built with his friend.

Stiles took a deep, steadying break. He could do this. He didn’t actually have any obligation to meet up with Peter straight away anyway. He was going for a job. A job he was going to finish.

Yeah, he could do this.

***

Peter was getting _looks_. Probably because he couldn’t stop tapping his foot. Clicking his pen. Checking his phone.

Stiles was supposed to be landing in New York soon. He was supposed to be coming to investigate _something_. It must be important though if he’d been sent from his home city.

Someone walked up to his bench, Peter looking up and blinking in surprise at who had stopped by.

“Now, I don’t usually ask, but, Peter, are you ok?”

Peter hurried to nod, not wanting to waste Tony Stark’s time.

Tony raised an eyebrow and gestured to the leg that was still tapping away beneath the desk. Peter sighed.

“You know my internet friend?”

“You mean your nerd pal?”

“You’re a nerd too, Mr Stark.”

Tony shrugged, then waved Peter on to continue.

“He’s coming to New York.”

Tony seemed to understand immediately, to Peter’s relief. He wasn’t sure he could explain his emotions on the subject to _Tony Stark_. He was kind of known for not being great with it.

“Are you going to meet up?”

“Well, he’s coming here for work, so he might not have time. And… what with my extracurricular activities…”

“I think you should meet him, might be entertaining. What’s he coming here for?”

Peter shrugged, “he works with the FBI, so he isn’t allowed to tell me.”

Tony’s eyes widened slightly, “Stiles, right?”

Peter nodded, squinting slightly at the expression that fell over Tony’s face. “Do you know him?”

Tony shook his head, though his eyes were _glittering_ , “nope, that would be ridiculous. Well, I hope everything works out. Keep up the good work, underoos.”

Peter grumbled at the nickname, returning to his work in spite of himself. Tony Stark was one _unusual_ character.

***

He got a text whilst he was out on patrol with Deadpool that evening, Stiles had arrived. Deadpool pestered Spider Man until he spilled the beans, though Peter wasn’t annoyed. He wanted to talk about it, especially to Deadpool.

“ _LittleRedSparky_ is in New York.”

Deadpool gasped dramatically, “did you go pick up lover boy from the airport and romantically drive him through the streets of New York to your house?”

Spider Man laughed at that, “no, Deadpool. I don’t drive,”

“I’ll rephrase it: did you _swing_ him back to your house and drive him into your mattress?”

That wasn’t _any_ better.

Spider Man choked at that, spluttering and coughing out the taco he’d been ingesting, Deadpool wincing and saying a small prayer for the lost food. Tsk. What a waste.

“Are you going to meet up? As civilians, obviously.”

Spider Man hesitated, “I don’t know. What if… what if he decides I’m actually _too_ big a nerd?”

Deadpool hummed, “you are a big nerd, the biggest even.”

“That’s really not helping, DP.”

“Just be yourself, you’ve been friends forever, he’s probably just as big a dork as you.”

Spider Man gave a small laugh at that, “I doubt it, he doesn’t come across as a dork.”

“Ah, he a BAMF?”

“A what?”

Deadpool waved a hand, “you’ll understand later.”

Spider Man stared at his friend for a moment, then shook his head with a laugh, “why are we friends?”

Deadpool flexed his muscles, “because I’m devilishly handsome and you can’t resist me.”

“Incorrect.”

Deadpool _pouted_ , which was an impressive feat behind the mask. Kudos to him, Peter thought idly.

They were quickly distracted as Peter heard the tell tail signs of something going _wrong_ , both of them swinging into action.

***

A week later and Peter still hadn’t made up his mind. He hadn’t really had the free time, not with his latest rival popping up and trying to reveal his identity. It probably would’ve worked too if Deadpool hadn’t shot the man in the kneecap and sent him flying.

Peter was back to square one, all but pacing the office. He could feel his lab companions watching him, as though expecting him to spontaneously combust.

It really wouldn’t be the first time.

Peter heard an irritated groan and looked in its direction, seeing one of the tech guys from their lab throwing his hands in the air angrily. Everyone was immediately wondering what was going on.

“Stark’s gonna _kill_ us.”

Now _that_ wasn’t a good statement.

“What’s happened?” Peter asked, walking closer.

Tom, for that was his name, glared at his computer, “latest robbery. Just found out what they stole.”

Peter’s stomach dropped; he’d been so _careful_! He’d been watching Stark’s building like a _hawk_. Not because Tony had asked him to, because he _hadn’t_ , but because he wanted to stop people from stealing potentially dangerous goods from the company he worked for.

He never got to explain what they’d stolen though, the lab doors opening, and three people entered. One was the head of asset management, Happy Hogan. Peter’s sort of friend. They got along, sometimes. When Peter was silent (which was never).

The two people with Happy were unknown to Peter, though he could see their badges. FBI. Peter shouldn’t be nervous, he had no reason to be, and yet there he was. Becoming nervous. He really didn’t like the feds when he wasn’t calling them for someone he’d already caught.

Happy walked up to Peter and Tom gravely, the two agents following behind, “these are agents Hale and Stillinski, they’ll be asking you some questions.”

Peter looked between himself and Tom, confused. Who was Happy referring to?

Happy gave an irritated sigh, “you, Parker. They’re asking you questions. It was _your_ tech that was stolen.”

Peter’s eyes widened, “it was _what_?”

“That’s what I was trying to say…” Tom said uncomfortably.

“Which one?”

Happy checked his watch, apparently late for something else and annoyed with Peter (really, what’s new?), “your most recent one.”

Well, that’s not good. In the right hands, it could be used to accurately measure the affects of different chemicals over time without actually using any time.

In the wrong hands it could become a bomb large enough to level all of New York.

“Mr Parker, we’d like to ask you a couple of questions regarding your work.” The shorter one said. Peter nodded numbly, following the agents to a private part of the lab.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t appreciate the agent’s appearance. It was the eyes that got him, a colour so bright, so vibrant, it had Peter wanting to stare at them for hours on end. He might just do, from the other side of an interrogation table.

“You’re not in any sort of trouble, Mr Parker, we just want to know the nature of the device that was stolen so we can get an idea of the sort of people who might want it.”

Peter swallowed, “ah, well, it was supposed to be used to speed up the effects of time on an experiment.”

“Supposed to?” the taller, darker haired man asked, lifting a perfectly manicured eyebrow. Respect.

“It didn’t work, so I scrapped it, sent it to storage. I guess it was stolen during transport?”

“That seems to follow with our other reports.” The shorter one said.

“What else would this device be able to do?”

Peter sighed, “it could be used as a bomb, with the materials I used.”

Both agents weren’t surprised to learn this.

“Do you have any idea who might have been able to pull off such a heist?”

Peter shrugged, “I wish I knew.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr Parker.”

“Peter.”

The shorter one smiled at that, “Peter, then. If we have any further questions, can we rely on your help?”

Peter shrugged, “yeah, but not sure what kind of help I would be.”

The taller agent held out a card, the words ‘Derek Hale’ written at the top, a number below. “Call us if you find anything useful.”

He nodded, watching as the agents disappeared.

When he made his way back to his desk, he collapsed onto it, pulling out his phone. No new messages from Stiles, though he was probably working. He saved Derek’s number into his phone in case he ever _did_ require his help. He doubted it. He was Spider Man, he had Deadpool at his disposal.

Speaking of.

 _InsyWinsy:_ I may need your help.

 _Guns4Hire:_ ooh, I do love a good entry Segway!

 _InsyWinsy_ : Tonight. Usual spot.

 _Guns4Hire:_ don’t be leading me on, baby boy!

***

Spider Man was kept busy that night, and for the week that followed, unable to spare any time towards the mysterious thefts. Deadpool was on the case during the day, though he’d had just as much luck as Spider Man: none.

Short of contacting the FBI and asking what they knew, he was stumped.

He really hoped they weren’t going to create a bomb, but when were thefts ever for anything good these days? Whoever stole it could be building a mass of weapons, what with all the other stolen goods.

Peter had created a list of all the items that had been stolen in the same manner (through transport) and had tried to work out what one could build with all the items. He’d worked out that, with all the materials and the right attitude, one could build an arc reactor.

Or a bomb.

They might also be able to build an Iron Man suit, if they managed to find more alloys.

Peter was turning up more loose ends then anything and he was annoyed. No wonder Tony Stark had gone to the feds for this, he needed all the help he could get. These thieves, they were _good_. No evidence of theft until the next day when the count began. No traffic incidents. No prints. No signs of break ins.

Only the target items were ever stolen, nothing out of place.

That in itself was odd. How did they _know_ already which crate their desired object was?

Peter’s off handed theory was that they didn’t actually _care_ what item they were stealing. That they were selling whatever they managed to steal. He thought perhaps they were stealing for the show of being able to steal from the great Tony Stark, but Peter had ruled out that theory when no one had come forward to brag about their achievements.

His other theory was much more ominous. They knew because they were monitoring the facility, they had people on the inside. Peter had spent an entire afternoon working through this theory, checking staff records, checking _all_ staff records.

Fortunately for him, Tony Stark had already done all the hard yards. He employed people after a serious vetting process. He wasn’t _directly_ involved with the process, of course, but he did have _several_ AI procedures in place. Thank goodness for F.R.I.D.A.Y. all it took was some serious hacking skills (and a guy in the chair) to pull up what he needed.

He was pleased to announce there was no suspicious activity from any of the staff, so he could at least tick that box. The system had been keenly monitoring all staff with their passes, something Peter had known would happen all along. His own pass gave him total access, though few had his level of clearance.

Peter paused.

Who _else_ had his level of clearance? Or, at the base minimum, had access to the transports?

He skimmed through the lists, not finding anyone significant, not at first. He was close to giving up for the night, going through the records of people who had taken out a vehicle, had been into the storage facility. He needed to work backwards.

There was a knock at his door, and he groaned, throwing his hands in the air in aggravation. He wouldn’t admit to the growl he released too, closing his computer thoroughly and covering his investigative papers.

“Petey!”

His groan was more audible this time, throwing the door open in Wade’s face. Wade’s _grinning_ face. Oh no.

“Who’d you kill?”

Wade pretended to be hurt by his words, holding a hand (which was holding a rather _large_ bottle of wine) to his chest, his other hand holding what smelt like Chinese food. “I thought you could use some company, and a second set of eyes!”

Peter sighed; he probably could use the help.

“I thought so!”

Had he said that out loud?

“Yep!”

“Guess it has been a long day,” he mumbled.

Wade grinned, pushing his way into Peter’s home and making himself comfortable on the worn couch. Peter merely rolled his eyes and closed the door, locking it (even if it did seem strange – anyone who wanted to attack Peter wouldn’t be deterred by a _lock_ ) and heading to the couch with Wade.

“Ok, I’m here for you to bounce off. So, What’s the news.”

Peter groaned, “I wish you hadn’t asked; I’ve made _no_ progress.”

Wade’s eyebrows lifted (what was left of them), though he made no move to tease Peter. This was _serious_ Wade. Oh, Peter could live with that. “Ok, where’s your stuff?”

He went to his room and brought out his notes, spreading them over the coffee table. He probably _shouldn’t_ be going over confidential files with Deadpool, but hey. When in Rome, right?

It did help when Wade would pick up a file and throw it aside with a _eh, too boring!_ Or _nah, he’s just gay!_

“Do you think _LittleRedSparky_ might be any help?”

Peter frowned; he hadn’t even _thought_ to ask. Stiles had been so busy lately, with his own case, he didn’t want to bother him with his own. Though, it did give him an idea.

“How do you feel about hacking into the FBI?”

Wade grinned, “ooh, baby boy you know just what I like! But, why?”

“You remember those two agents, Hale and Stillinski? They’re working the same case. I guess it’s probably worth seeing what they know.”

“There are _other_ , non-illegal ways of finding out what they know.”

Peter raised an eyebrow, “you’re trying to give _me_ morals?”

Wade shrugged, “don’t want my Petey Pie going to prison when I can stop it. If they find out, you’ll have a hard time explaining that.”

Peter sighed, “yeah, I guess. And there’s no way I could get Ned to do that for me.”

“I guess the question is, how do we get them to talk?”

Peter really didn’t know. He fished out his phone from the pile of documents and sent out a quick text to Stiles, seeing if he’d be any help.

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _say, hypothetically, I wanted to find out what the FBI knew about a case, how would I go about asking?_

 _ LittleRedSparky _ _: You could ask, but it’s unlikely they’d tell you anything. Confidentiality._

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _I was afraid you’d say that. Any chance you’d be willing to help a pal out?_

 _ LittleRedSparky _ _: sorry Peter, I’m flat out with my own case! Wish I could though._

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _no stress, anything I can help with?_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _Unless you can somehow hook me up with a certain vigilante, I seriously doubt it._

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _What do you need from Spider Man?_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _eh, the FBI here have a bet on who’s gonna catch him first._

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _can’t say that surprises me, everyone has it out for him._

 _ LittleRedSparky _ _: I’m kinda surprised he hasn’t already caught the culprits for my case, seems right up his alley. Would save me a heap of trouble, might even go home at some point this decade._

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _naw, without the chance of having coffee with yours truly?_

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _tell ya what, when I get this case sorted, we’re going out for something stronger than a coffee._

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _it’s a date!_

Peter blushed as he threw his phone away, _why_ did he have to send that? Stiles might think him odd or say no because it was uncomfortable for him to go on a date with him… even if they didn’t have to actually go on a date-date.

“You’re overthinking, Petey Pie.”

Wade’s soft voice brought him back to the present, Peter looking up in surprise, Wade’s eyes focussed only on him. He was once more grateful Wade was his friend, not his enemy.

“Thanks, Wade. So, Stiles was useless, at least for us. Guess we’re back to hacking in…”

“Or actually contacting Hale and Stillinski.”

Peter sighed, “yeah, or that.”

“Though they probably won’t give any information to a civilian anyway,” Wade mused.

Peter shrugged, “I could always meet them as Spider Man.”

“They’d love that, but not for the reasons you want.”

Peter sighed; Wade was right. Honestly, Wade was _usually_ right, which was never a good thing to say. Because Wade was intense, loud, annoying, but he wasn’t _wrong_. He was just… unusual.

“Spider Man is a no go, hacking is a no go, we need their help though.”

“We just want to know if they know anything further, right? What if you got your boss to ask?”

“Mr Stark has better things then calling up the FBI for whatever they might have, and I don’t want him knowing I’m on the case. He hates whenever I go ‘ _in over my head’_.”

Wade frowned, “ok, so, we don’t have a clear path forward. That’s ok.”

Peter jumped up suddenly, spotting something on the wall he’d long since forgotten he’d kept. The initial tracking chip Stark had put into his suit when he’d just started out. “I have an idea.”

“You’re going to plant a bug on all the employees?”

Peter shook his head proudly, “nope, I’m gonna create a device designed for them to steal with a tracker.”

“What if they don’t take the bait?”

“Oh, they will.”

***

Stiles was _this close_ to punching through a wall in frustrations. They weren’t making _any_ progress with the case. He wasn’t actually that surprised, given how many faculties were working on it and _no one_ was helping anyone. The FBI were laughingstock for the security details Stark had hired, much to Stiles’ dismay.

Derek wasn’t fairing any better, frowning at the paperwork strewn across their kitchen table, barely any room for their meals. They’d been here for a whole _month_ now, no signs of the case slowing down. If anything, it was amping up. Nothing new had been stolen since the whole Peter Parker debarkle, poor guy having no clue it’d been stolen until they’d rocked up.

How did someone so clearly high up in Stark’s payroll not have a clue his own tech had been stolen?

Stiles had asked the question that many times, it was pinned to one of his numerous cork boards. Peter wasn’t a suspect, but his technology was connected somehow.

They just had to work out how.

“I can’t help but feel we’re _missing_ something.”

“Yeah, the stolen artefacts.”

Stiles glared at Derek, that was simultaneously the most hilarious thing he’d said all day and the most _irritating_. Couldn’t Derek be funny when it would be appreciated?

“I think we should take a day off, let our brains reset. You, more so than me. You’re the brains of this operation.”

Stiles knew what Derek was trying to do and he admit it worked. He breathed in deeply, shaking off the building tension in his limbs. Derek knew him too well. Stupid sour wolf.

“We need to get more information. We can’t do that if Hogan isn’t willing to work with us, which he clearly isn’t.”

Derek nodded, silently listening to Stiles’ musings.

“Somehow, we need to get more, from someone…”

Stiles’ brain clicked over, and he jumped forwards, flicking through the files until he pulled out Peter Parker’s. He grinned.

“I think it might be time we found out some more about Peter, don’t you?”

Derek looked at the file in confusion, “he’s not a suspect.”

“No, he’s not, but he _is_ someone who could be helpful. Think about it, we haven’t had any luck with the higher ups, right? Well, he’s not a higher up. And who better to ask about the stolen work then the people who created them?”

“How do you expect that to go down, Stiles? If you ask him to come to the building, we’ll get nothing out of him, he’ll lawyer up before we have the chance.”

Stiles nodded at that, looking through Peter’s file and trying to find a contact number. There.

“We could ask if he wanted to have coffee with us?”

“Because every normal person wants to have coffee with two FBI agents.”

“He could bring a friend, I guess, or we could make it clear it’s just to talk.”

Derek sighed, “You’re set on this, aren’t you?”

Stiles nodded, feeling rather triumphant. He was always going to win this argument, of that there was no question. Derek would listen to Stiles; it was how they worked. It just took some convincing sometimes. Or some explaining. Stiles supposed Derek actually did it so that Stiles would work through his reasoning to _himself_.

“Alright, give me his number. He has mine; it makes sense it come from me.”

Derek sounded so resigned, though Stiles’ could see he was secretly glad they had _something_ to go off. Peter might be a dead end, but it was a dead end they could at least try.

Whilst Derek was busy texting potentially helpful Peter, Stiles decided to text his own Peter, who was always helpful. He was kind of curious as to the impact of some of the materials from the stolen artefacts, though it was all stuff he could find on his own.

He could always ask about the gene splicers that had been stolen and what they could be used for. It was certainly an empty spot on his list of answers.

“Peter’s going to have lunch with us tomorrow.”

“Perfect.”

***

 _InsyWinsy_ : Alright, I’m going to lunch now. Text me if you find anything.

 _Guns4Hire:_ right, you take care bb. I’m only a text away if it goes pear shaped xx

Peter rolled his eyes at the kisses, knowing the _exact_ expression on Wade’s face as he sent it. Why, oh _why_ , did Peter have to hang out with him?

(Because Wade could keep up with him, and he was remarkably entertaining).

He entered the café they’d agreed on, unsurprised to find Stillinski and Hale already perched at a table by the corner, heads buried in a stack of papers. Maybe this would be easier than Peter had thought.

Stillinski stood as he saw Peter, beckoning him over with a charming smile on his face. Peter would be lying if he said his heart hadn’t skipped a beat, because it absolutely had. He kept his features neutral though, intent on getting through this meeting with his heart and brain intact.

“It’s good to see you, Peter,” Stillinski said, sitting as Peter himself sat.

He smiled, then looked at the menu with a frown, great. He wouldn’t be able to afford any of this. He may have a high-end job; it didn’t mean he was well off. He had numerous expenses, and food just… it wasn’t one he prioritised (it should’ve been, what with his spider metabolism).

Stillinski and Hale both noticed his looks and glanced to each other, seeming to both come to the same agreement, “we can pay for you, we did choose the café, after all.”

Peter hesitated, “it’s fine, I just…”

“Won’t have enough for groceries later? Yeah, I’ve been there. This ones on me, hey?”

Peter smiled, “yeah, alright.”

They ordered their food and waited patiently for it to arrive; Peter impressed with the quality of the food. He’d never eaten here before, purely due to the cost, but he had to say he was pleased he had the chance.

“I figure you guys didn’t invite me out for a social gathering.”

Stillinski and Hale both shook their heads, Stillinski moving to open conversation as Peter had expected. Hale just didn’t seem the type of person to initiate lengthy conversations.

“We’ve hit a bit of a hole with the Stark case, we were kind of hoping you might be able to help us.”

“I figured, given you actually had to ask some random employee.”

Hale shook his head, “you’re not random, you designed something that was stolen.”

Peter frowned, “there were other things stolen.”

“Most of which were Stark’s personal designs, you, Peter, are the outlier here.”

Peter hadn’t even thought of that.

“Ok, what have you got?”

Stillinski smirked, Peter getting the feeling he was _living_ for this. It sparked a small amount of energy in Peter’s own chest, eager to see where this all went. Maybe he would be able to get something from these guys.

“Who knew about your project?”

“Stark, my floor. Hogan.”

“Are there any new staff on your floor?”

Peter shook his head, though paused. One of the security guards had only been hired the previous year, and Peter hadn’t actually seen _his_ security data. He made a mental note to check up on him later.

“You’ve thought of something,” Hale said, eyebrows raising. Peter blinked at him, surprised. He was sure his face was entirely blank!

Stillinski looked to his partner, then back at Peter briefly, encouraging him on. Peter sighed.

“There’s a new guy, security. Been there 8 months.”

Stillinski hummed, “within our timeline, I guess. How long were you working on your device?”

Peter shrugged, “probably a month? Stark gave me assistance with it.”

Once again, Stillinski and Hale shared a look, this time with raised eyebrows, “ _Stark_ worked with you?”

Peter held his tongue, unsure if he should actually say anything further.

Stillinski recognised the look, for his own softened, “you don’t have to go into details, but I think this might be good information. Every other stolen product had Stark’s hand in it too.”

“It did? I never even-” he cut himself off, not wanting to reveal too much. He didn’t want them knowing he was investigating it too, otherwise they might withhold answers.

He took a deep breath, steadying himself, “yeah, Stark helped me with it, though only with the application of two difficult minerals, he doesn’t like me handling them…”

Stillinski laughed at that, seeming to understand why without Peter actually having to explain, “I have a chemistry friend who’s constantly having people handle delicate substances for him too.”

“Not as uncommon as you’d think,” Peter grumbled.

Stillinski was grinning, even Hale was amused by Peter’s outburst.

“What we know so far, that seems important at any rate, is that Stark had a hand in all of the devices that were stolen.”

Peter hummed softly, “were there other Stark inventions on the transport vehicles?”

Stillinski and Hale both paused, Peter listening in closely to their heart rates as they debated. He realised, belatedly, the thought _hadn’t_ crossed their minds. Stillinski flipped through a file, eyes reading through it in an almost aggressive manner that Peter could appreciate. He had to focus rather delicately to read any of the words on the page, even with his enhanced abilities.

“So out of the 10 transport vehicles that have gone out during our known timeframe, 6 have been broken into, all with only 1 Stark device on board. The other 4 don’t have any on records.”

Peter pursed his lips. That was an _incorrect_ number. He knew there’d been 12 trucks, 8 broken into.

Hale watched Peter closely, eyes narrowing _just so_. “You have an objection?”

Peter sighed, in order to get their help, he should probably help them too. He pulled out his own list of crimes from his condensed folder he’d brought along, _just in case_.

Stillinski’s eyes widened enthusiastically at the folder, “you’ve been doing your research too.”

Peter sighed, “yeah, it’s kind of... why I agreed to come out today. I’ve hit a bit of a crossroad.”

Stillinski flicked through the notes and made an impressed whistle, then zeroed in on the details, “these are very well researched, how do you have time?”

Peter shrugged, “I have a fair amount of free time at home, I guess. It’s important. I want to know who stole my tech, especially…”

“Given what it could be used for?”

“Yeah.”

“Given the new information, we have to compare more data… would you mind if we kept these notes?”

Peter supposed he didn’t have much choice, now that he’d shown federal agents his case notes, though it was nice of them to ask.

“I have copies,” he admitted.

“Good, because you didn’t have a lot of choice,” Stillinski said cheerfully.

Peter rolled his eyes, “I’m not a complete idiot, I know how your system works.”

“Peter, I can already say you’ve been more help then literally anyone else.”

The man grinned at that, “happy to help. I don’t suppose…”

Stillinski looked at Hale, who gave a resigned nod, “I guess if you were to sign some confidentiality papers, we could let you in on the case… consultant, as it were.”

Peter frowned, “Hogan would never allow it, he has to sign off on that stuff, doesn’t he?”

“Why wouldn’t he?”

Peter shrugged, “Hogan doesn’t like me pushing my nose into Stark’s business.”

Stillinski’s eyebrows rose, “oh?”

“Not like that, Happy’s the best employee Stark has. He’s just… protective. If he found out I was looking into it, he’d shut me down faster than you could blink.”

“So, no clause then.” Stillinski said.

Peter sighed, “guess not.”

“To be fair, it doesn’t seem like we have any information you _don’t_ have,” Derek noted, shuffling through Peter’s papers.

Peter practically glowed from the compliment, for that’s what it was, “what can I say, I’m nothing if not thorough. Though I hadn’t pieced together that it was only objects with Stark’s hand. That makes my next move a little more challenging.”

He pursed his lips the moment the words were out of his mouth, seeing the intense looks on the agent’s faces. He sighed.

“You have a plan?”

“Sort of, yeah. I was gonna… create something the thieves couldn’t help themselves to. But, if I need Stark’s help, well. It just became a little more complicated.”

Stillinski gave an approving nod, “that is actually a rather clever idea.”

“I have my moments.”

Hale hummed thoughtfully, “would you plant a tracker?”

“I don’t know if that would work, honestly. In the tech I made, there’s a highly traceable metal inside, which I tried to trace and somehow couldn’t find anything. Which I guess means they knew I’d put it in there? Maybe they knew how to properly contain it?”

Stillinski frowned, “tracking is out then. Good to know. And we wouldn’t exactly be stealthy following the transport van.”

Peter already had _that_ part covered, though he wasn’t about to mention that. It was all the other parts of his plan he needed to flesh out first.

Stillinski leaned back in his chair, a frustrated glare concentrated on his empty coffee cup, “we’re back to square one.”

Peter shrugged, “sometimes these things take time.”

“Yeah, and I guess if Hogan’s own team hasn’t found anything, we can be forgiven.”

Hale agreed, “if Spider Man hasn’t cracked it, nobody can.”

Peter rolled his eyes at that, “you feds, I can’t even work out if you’re complimenting him or just trying to get him to stuff up.”

Stillinski sighed, “at this point, I’d accept working with him. I haven’t exactly been in New York for long, but I can see he does _good_. Perhaps…”

“Terrible idea.”

Peter blinked at Hale’s words, the definitive tone. There was no room for argument.

Stillinski shrugged, “probably, yeah. The department just might fire us. Worth it though.”

“Gotta find him first, he’s not a fan of the feds either.”

“Can’t say I blame him,” Stillinski agreed.

Peter sighed. They weren’t going to get anywhere, not yet. That was ok. He had Deadpool out on the lookout. He had _more_ of an idea of what he wanted to do next. He had more data. He had helped the feds too, which put him in their good favour. All part of his long game.

“You said you were new in town?”

Stillinski grinned, “yeah, we were called down by our department recently, selected to handle this case.”

Peter whistled, “that’s a pretty big deal, congratulations.”

Stillinski seemed chuffed by his response, though gestured vaguely at his colleague, “Derek moved with me too, we’ve been partners for as long as I’ve been on the force.”

Peter’s heart did a small flip at the mention, recognising how close the two were with a small feeling of sadness. Of course, Stillinski was already in a relationship, he was rather too perfect not to be. Besides. Peter liked Stiles. Yep. No attraction towards this random fed.

Derek seemed to realise what Peter was thinking and shook his head, “not that sort of partner.”

It did actually comfort Peter to hear that and he wanted to slap himself for even thinking it. He wouldn’t stand a chance with Stillinski anyway. He lived in another town, what would be the point?

“Seeing as you _are_ new, if you have a night off, would you be interested in seeing the night life?”

Foot in mouth.

Peter’s heart stilled as he waited for the response, whilst simultaneously fluttering like a bird in his chest.

Stillinski smiled. “I can’t imagine I’ll have many evenings to myself, but yes. That does sound lovely.”

“You have my number, I guess. Let me know when you’re keen, I know all the best spots. Hardly any crowds.”

Stillinski seemed to relax at that, Peter had called it right. Not a crowd’s man. neither was Peter, too loud. His senses had been elevated from the spider bite, which really _hadn’t_ helped his other sensitivity issues.

Peter’s phone chimed, a text from Deadpool. He sighed, fishing it from his pocket and knowing already what it would say.

“I’ve gotta run, but this was good.”

“Thank you, for your time and information. We’ll be in contact?”

Peter grinned, nodding, “definitely, you’ve gotta experience New York for all its glory.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Peter darted off then, not giving his heart a moment to settle and examine what’d just happened. He may have just indirectly asked a federal agent out on a date. It was fine.

This was fine.

He decided to throw himself completely into a battle against the Rhino, who’d made another grand reappearance. At least this was familiar. He could worry about Stillinski later.

“Glad you showed up, thought you’d be too busy on your date, Spidey.”

“Shut up, Deadpool. Let’s finish this quickly, I need some serious shots.”

“I do so like you telling me what to do.”

Spider Man rolled his eyes and threw himself into the fight.

***

Another week passed and Stiles was still no closer to catching the culprit. He’d been closely monitoring Stark Industries exports, trying to see if he would be able to spot something worthy of theft. He’d found multiple items _he_ thought were fascinating, but nothing that was notable for the case.

Derek wasn’t having any further luck on his end. _His end_ being talking to all the employees and security on Peter’s floor and listening to their heart beats to see if they were lying.

Interestingly, the one security guard Peter had mentioned had been cleaner than a whistle, absolutely no records whatsoever. Perfect school, perfect upbringing, perfect neighbourhood.

Yeah, Stiles agreed it was fishy.

Derek couldn’t find anything when he talked to the guy though, no abnormal heartbeat, no unusual ticks. It seemed like a bit of a dead end.

“I mean, I _know_ they called the feds in because they couldn’t find anything, but this is _ridiculous_! No organisation is _this_ clean!”

Derek hummed in agreement, leaning back on the sofa with a glass of water perched delicately in his hands.

“If there’s anyone who can solve this case, it’s you, Stiles.”

Stiles grinned at the confidence Derek had in him. He could remember years ago when Derek had made him sit out for fights, simply because he’d been human. Well. How things had changed, hadn’t they? Now, Stiles was their unit leader and the better fighter (against humans with an equal amount of strength).

“I miss the days where I skirted the law.”

Derek raised an eyebrow, “you still do.”

Stiles shrugged, “I mean, it’s harmless if I get the criminals, right?”

“Sure, Stiles. Just, don’t actually _tell_ me if you hack into Stark’s personal records.”

Stiles paused.

“What did you say?”

Derek stared at him.

“You’re actually a genius.”

“I have my moments.”

Stiles grinned, “give me your phone, I’m calling Peter.”

Derek rolled his eyes, passing his phone over without hesitation. There had been no contact with Peter since he’d indirectly asked him out (Stiles hadn’t been convinced until Derek had mentioned how his heart had skipped repetitively in _that way_ ).

“Yo, Derek!”

“Actually, not Derek. I think I might have a way for us to collaborate.”

Peter paused on the other end, Stiles getting the distinct impression he was actually _pausing_ , sounding out of breath. Had Stiles caught him at a bad time?

“Ok, I’m listening – no, stop! I’m on the phone!”

“Have I interrupted? I can call back!”

Peter responded instantly with, “no, no, it’s just my friend, he’s being a _pest_.”

Stiles could practically see Peter glaring at said friend, a small smile on his own lips in amusement. It was hard to imagine Peter with any facial expression other then a radiating smile.

“Proposition me.”

Stiles grinned, “ok, firstly, how do you feel about certain practices that may or may not be illegal?”

“You want me to hack into Stark’s personal files.”

It wasn’t a question and Stiles whistled.

“Already done that, and it’s a dead end.”

“Damn.”

“It was the first thing I did. Granted, it wasn’t _me_ who did it, may as well have been. I skimmed the data.”

Stiles sighed, well it was worth a try, right? “You don’t happen to still have it?”

“Of course, I do, but I don’t think a couple of law-abiding feds should be in possession of it.”

“Good point.”

Peter paused, clearly having a conversation with whatever friend was with him, muting his call and surprising Stiles, who looked up at Derek. Derek, who’d been listening very intently to the whole conversation and was also trying to come up with a solution.

“You still there?”

Stiles nodded, then realised absently Peter wouldn’t be able to see the movement and said, “yeah, still here.”

“Ok, so I think I might have an idea, depending on how… serious you are about this.”

“Off the books?”

“You read my mind.”

Stiles grinned, “I clock off at 5.”

“Excellent, I’ll text Derek my address. Bring your resources, we’ll pool.”

“We’ll bring dinner.”

Peter hung up almost abruptly with a “yep, see ya then!” leaving Stiles staring at the phone in surprise. He shook himself off, then handed the phone back to Derek with a grin.

“Like old times, hey?”

Derek shrugged, “if by old times you mean hacking into your father’s police reports to find information on supernatural’s or criminals and then persecuting them _on your own_ , then yes.”

“There’s no way we can get Peter to help us without deviating at least a _little_. We need his help. He’s an inside man, who’s clearly on the case himself. Two bright minds working together, right?”

“I’m not arguing.”

Stiles grinned, “of course you’re not. You live for the thrill of the chase.”

“More wolf jokes? I thought you were past that.”

“Never.”

***

Peter was getting ready to finish for the day, leaving his lab clean and tidy. He’d had an interrupted day, what with having to take down yet another of his ‘common’ enemies. Deadpool had assisted, of course, he had nothing better to do apparently.

He was the only one left in the lab, just how he liked it. Silent.

The doors opened and Peter looked up, startled when he saw none other then Tony Stark walking towards him, the expression he wore telling Peter _all he needed to know_.

Ah, so he’d found out then. Grouse.

“What have I told you about sneaking around?”

Peter sighed, “not to do it.”

“Have you found anything?”

He looked up, surprised by the question, surprised by Stark’s _expectant_ look. Well.

“Not yet, but I think I might be closer.”

Tony ran a hand over his face, “much as I hate the idea of you taking on too much, I can’t protect you forever.”

“I’m still protecting the little guys.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m too lazy.”

Peter grinned, “why did you _really_ come down here? You could’ve just emailed me or have F.R.I.D.AY. contact me.”

“Because I wanted to tell you _in person_ that there’s a transport going out next week with my tech on board.”

Peter’s eyes widened.

Tony nodded.

“I need more.”

“Of course, you do. You know where the file is, it’s called _underoos shouldn’t be peaking_.”

Peter grinned, “oh, Mr Stark, you do care.”

“I want these guys caught; I don’t want to have to defend New York from a potential _bomb_ threat. I’m too lazy and old to do the hard yards myself, plus people will notice me.”

“You got the feds involved.”

Tony’s eyes lit up in the same mischievous way Peter had seen the _first_ time he’d mentioned the feds, “I did, didn’t I? How is agent Stillinski?”

Peter fought the blush that wanted to spread across his cheeks, he wasn’t _doing this right now_! Not with Tony Stark, playboy extraordinaire (even if that status had been revoked due to his long-term relationship with Doctor Strange) and mentor. Nope.

“Well, I’d better go – bad guys don’t wait for no one!”

Tony was smiling, something far too cheerful and unnecessary, though he blissfully allowed Peter to leave. The young spider scurried out of the office as quickly as he could.

He’d gotten Tony’s blessing to investigate the case. It was a good start.

“Hey, Ned? Yeah, I need a favour.”

“Already on it, sent to your concealed emails.”

Peter could’ve kissed him.

“You’re a legend.”

“Don’t you go doing anything reckless, you owe me more Lego.”

Peter laughed, “it’s already on order, don’t you worry.”

He took the long way home, dawdling on the streets. He wasn’t exactly concerned, it was broad daylight, peak hour and there were other people on the streets. He also wasn’t concerned because he was literally Spider Man and had an extra danger sense (his Peter Tingle).

Peter’s apartment was quiet when he returned, throwing his work bag onto his bed and flopping next to it, staring at his ceiling. He listened to the sounds of the city below, the sounds of bustling and hustling. Peaceful.

He wasn’t sure how long he lay there, though it must’ve been a while, hearing a knock at the door. He knew who it must be, jumping to his feet. Absently, he checked his appearance decided it was the best he could manage.

Except, it wasn’t the agents at the door. Rather, it was Wade, dressed head to toe in civies with only his head exposed, an offering of Chinese takeout in his hands. Peter rolled his eyes, ushering him into the apartment.

“What’re you doing here, Wade?”

“I came to support my baby boy, what else?”

Peter stared at him blankly, though silently, he was grateful to have Wade here. Wade was incredibly intelligent himself, even if he played the fool. His help on this case had already been fruitful, even if nothing had come up yet. They needed to see all the angles.

Another knock at the door sounded just as Peter had finished his Chinese food (he had mentioned to Deadpool Stillinski would be bringing food, and Wade had known it wouldn’t be _enough_ for the spider’s metabolism). Peter stood and opened the door, beckoning the two off duty agents into his household, feeling a strange sense of calm flow through his body. They weren’t threats in his home, he’d known that, but to _feel_ it so intensely, it still surprised him.

“I wasn’t sure what you’d like, so I though burgers were a safe bet.”

Peter grinned, taking the offered bags from Stillinski and taking them into his kitchen. The agents both looked at Wade, surprised to see another person in the house, Wade’s eyes narrowing on Stillinski _just so_ , though he then turned around and winked at Peter, who rolled his eyes.

“This is Wade, he’s been helping me on the case.”

They sat at the table, covered in papers of various cases and ate their burgers, Peter spotting one file beside Wade that _should not_ be spotted. He coughed slightly, catching Wade’s eyes and flicking it down at the paper.

Wade got the message, but so did both the agents.

“Secret project, not case related I swear.”

Stillinski raised an eyebrow, though made no objection, “you don’t have to share everything, anyways. We’re just here about the case.”

“Nothing illegal either,” Wade said, a sad note to his voice which made Peter roll his eyes.

“That’s actually a _good_ thing, Wade.”

They continued to eat their dinner; Peter pleasantly surprised by the quantity of food provided. Derek himself seemed to have a rather large plate of food to himself, making no comment, though he didn’t need to. Some people just had a higher metabolism.

Once the dishes were away, Peter pulled out his private laptop and opened the files Tony had wanted him to find. He grinned, printing them off and then deleting them from his server. He pulled out his markers and handed out the sheets to his new team, grinning.

“Let’s get to work.”

Two hours later, they had devised somewhat of a plan. Stark had been an incredible help, too. He’d created a device that fit the profile of the stolen items exactly (and he said he hadn’t been paying attention). Peter, as their inside man, would be on surveillance. He would report to Stillinski when the transport was supposed to be leaving, arriving and all stages in between. He would also oversee finding out the exact route the truck would take.

That did mean hacking into Hogan’s files, which Stiles managed easily from Peter’s computer, which earned an impressed whistle from both Peter and Wade.

“I’m not new at this,” Stillinski said, rolling his eyes.

“Never said you were,” Peter said with a shrug, watching him work curiously.

Peter lifted the draft of their final plan, squinting at the scribbles and lines that had been marked, each job role almost illegible. His handwriting sucked.

“I’m rather disappointed my role isn’t crucial,” Wade pouted.

Peter rolled his eyes, “it will be, Wade.”

“Ooh, secret mission?”

If Wade had a tail, it would be wagging.

Peter stared at him flatly, “must you?”

Wade was once more pouting, eyes almost glistening with what Peter could only describe as puppy dog eyes. How was this a grown man? Trick question don’t answer that.

“But Petey Pie…”

“Don’t call me that.”

The agents made an awkward noise and Peter flushed, having practically forgotten they were there, turning back to them.

“Ah, sorry about that. Wade doesn’t know when to quit.”

Wade agreed with a nod, “he’s right.”

“Derek will be monitoring traffic footage; I’ll be monitoring messages from the company. Peter, your job is to alert us when the cargo leaves.”

Peter rolled his eyes. yeah, and then follow the cargo shipment from within, of course. Hidden. Stealthily. He hadn’t quite worked out how he was going to pull that part off just yet, though he had an idea (which, unfortunately, meant involving either Stark or Happy).

As they were preparing to close, having designed an (almost) foolproof plan to at least get a glimpse of the thieves, Stillinski came across a rather impressive unseen photograph Deadpool had taken of Spider Man. Unseen, because it was framed and signed with a _Deadpool and Spidey <3_.

Stillinski raised an eyebrow, “do I want to know?”

Peter shrugged, “I used to take photos of Spider Man, back before I started working for SI.”

Stillinski and Derek exchanged looks (they did that a lot, actually), “you still in contact with him?”

“Are you asking that as a federal agent or someone who knows Spider Man could actually be useful?” Wade asked, looking incredibly serious for the first time that evening, impressing Peter.

“The second one.”

“I know him.”

“Reckon you could get him on board?”

Wade shrugged, “might be in our best interests.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “he’ll be on board. We’re gonna get these guys.”

“No doubt,” Stillinski agreed.

Wade jumped up suddenly, startling Peter slightly, though he rolled his eyes when he saw the look on Wade’s face, “who’s in the mood for alcohol?”

“I have work tomorrow,” Stillinski said with a shake of his head.

Derek, on the other hand, agreed. Peter figured it wouldn’t hurt, not like he could get drunk.

Wade seemingly produced a bottle of red wine out of thin air (from his stash under Peter’s couch) and passed it around, pouring it into their water glasses. Peter took his and sipped it slowly, enjoying the taste rather then whatever effects it was supposed to bring.

Soon enough, it was passing midnight and Peter produced a yawn, startling himself. He did have work the next day himself.

The agents saw themselves out, Wade leaving once he’d established, he and Peter would be taking more of an active roll with the case then they’d previously stated. Peter was ready. They were going to catch these thieves before they could hurt anyone.

***

“They’re hiding something.”

Stiles rolled his eyes; Derek was always sceptical. In this instance, he was right.

“Obviously.”

“So long as they’re helping with the case, right?”

“Yep.”

Derek nodded.

***

“You ready?”

Spider Man nodded.

“Let’s get these bastards.”

***

 _IAmIronMan_ : got a plan?

 _Underoos:_ you betcha!

 _IAmIronMan:_ glad to hear it. Stay safe, look after my suit.

Peter grinned, tucking his phone away. It was time. He could do this. He had a small earpiece tucked neatly into his ear, direct comms to Deadpool and Stillinski. The agents weren’t aware he was there, though.

Happy had begrudgingly agreed to allow Peter onto the transport truck, unknown to everyone else. He’d been _incredibly_ careful when presenting the idea to Happy, ensuring no one was overhearing, no one could see their footage. No one was to know.

“Spider Man, you there?”

Said vigilante grinned, hearing the scepticism in Stillinski’s voice. Ah, a fed working with Spider Man, would wonders never cease?

“Loud and clear, Stillinski.”

Deadpool could hear what Stillinski was saying, even if the agents couldn’t hear what _he_ was saying. Even so, he said, “I’m here too, if anyone cares.”

Spider Man rolled his eyes.

Spider Man was contained in a cramped box, tucked safely beside the target item. Happy had made that happen personally, even if he had grunted and complained the whole time. He’d ticked off the shipment, had confirmed with the driver. It was go time.

Spider Man held his breath.

The truck started to move.

Nothing much happened for the first five minutes of the drive, then everything happened at once.

A ticking sound.

A bashing noise.

A thump.

A curse.

A jolt.

The box next to him was moving.

Spider Man steeled himself.

“Come on, I really thought this would be it!”

Spider Man paused.

“No, no, I get it. It’s just, he’s not here. Maybe he’s not as smart as you said he was. We’ve not exactly been subtle.”

“Fine, fine. On my way.”

Spider Man took the opportunity to break open the unlocked box, barely surprising the thief. The thief who was dressed in class black attire from hear to toe, mask covering his face.

“Never mind, he’s here.”

Spider Man never had time to question it.

A trigger was pulled.

Spider Man collapsed.

***

“Spider Man? Spider Man can you hear me?”

Stiles wasn’t sure what’d just happened. He couldn’t reach Spider Man. He couldn’t even see his tracker chip anymore. Something had gone wrong. Something had gone _horribly wrong_. Stiles looked up at an equally confused Derek.

“This just got interesting.”

They tried to pull the comms back, though nothing was working. It was almost as though it’d never existed in the first place. Stiles grew frustrated quickly.

“Getting frustrated won’t help us find Spider Man.”

Stiles threw his hands up, “they _knew,_ Derek. They _knew Spider Man would find them_.”

“Yes. It was clearly a trap for him.”

Derek was trying to placate Stiles, but it wasn’t helping. it wasn’t what he needed. He _needed_ to fix it. Fix _something_.

“Of all times for my jeep to be with Scott.”

Derek snorted, “there are other things for you to fix.”

Stiles settled on the alternative: punching Derek.

Derek, being the impassive rock that he was, allowed it, holding his hands so Stiles could hurl his own at them. The werewolf was stronger than the human, though Stiles was _frustrated_. There’s something to be said about the strength of an angry human.

There was a tap on the window beside them, Stiles and Derek both jumping slightly. How had Derek not heard them arrive? They turned and were surprised to find a masked figure staring intently at them. Stiles recognised him from the news: Deadpool.

Stiles was confused by his appearance, wasn’t he a mercenary who should be off killing people? He stilled. He really hoped he wasn’t the target. Or Derek.

“Will you just let me in before I break your window with my face?”

Derek scowled, though did as instructed (Stiles could tell Deadpool meant _business_ and they couldn’t afford a broken window).

“Great, thanks for that. Right. You’re those FBI guys, right?”

Stiles tilted his head, why was his voice so familiar?

“Yes, why are you here? We could very easily arrest you.”

Deadpool waved a gloved hand, “I’d like to see you try. No. I’m here because my best friend – and quite possibly my only friend but _details_ – was just taken hostage.”

“Spider Man? how’d you hear about that?”

Stiles was rather impressed at Deadpool’s suit then because he seemed to be _rolling his eyes_. “He had me watching out for him too, he’s no fool. Except, he’s vanished. No trace.”

Stiles grimaced.

Deadpool began pacing.

“We’re back to square one,” Derek muttered.

Stiles nodded.

“Do you really have no idea where they’re at least holding their stolen goods?”

“Deadpool, if we _knew_ , do you think we’d be standing around in this apartment? A man’s life is now in danger, alongside who knows what else!”

Deadpool and Derek both stared at Stiles in mild surprise. Stiles took a deep breath.

“It’s not your fault, you know.”

Stiles shook off Deadpool’s words.

“It’s not. Spidey would’ve done the same thing regardless of who was at his side. He’s just lucky he has a team this time.”

Stiles sighed, “yeah, ok. Let’s just focus on getting him back.”

Deadpool nodded, “ok, his suit has a tracker. We need to get access to that. I brought Peter’s laptop.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows, “he gave you his laptop?”

“No, I took it on my way over.”

Stiles looked to Derek, his heart sinking slightly, “where’s Peter?”

Deadpool didn’t get the chance to respond though, his phone lighting up in his pocket. He pulled it out, the screen showing a rather obnoxious image of Tony Stark.

“What’s up, daddyo?”

“Cut the crap, Wade. Where’s Peter?”

“Geez, calm your jets. I’ve got my best men on it.”

Stiles heard the interaction and it all fell into place. Peter was missing too.

“This just became a missing person’s case,” Stiles said aloud.

There was a pause between Stark (who Stiles couldn’t believe was actually talking to them) and Deadpool, before the voice through the phone said, “are you with those agents?”

“Yup, Stillinski and Hale.”

Stark made an amused sound on the other end, “you’d better find Peter, Stiles.”

Deadpool made a noise, “Stiles?”

“Yeah, it’s my nickname.”

If it was possible, Deadpool seemed to become even _more_ excited, practically jumping around. What was so important about his name though?

“Focus, Deadpool. Embarrass Underoos later. _Find Peter_.”

Deadpool paused, “don’t you have access to his suit?”

Stark sighed, the sound making Stiles wince at how _desperate_ it sounded. Peter meant a lot to Stark. He clearly wasn’t just some regular lab employee. Stiles was starting to gather he was far more then that, especially if Stark himself was asking about him.

“It’s completely offline, no trace of it. It’s almost like it doesn’t exist. One minute, there. The next, gone. I can’t find him.”

Deadpool was grimacing, “great. How are we supposed to track him then?”

Derek stepped forwards, “I might have a way.”

“Ooh, the cool cop has a plan! Ok, bye bye Starky! I’ll find your son, reunite him with his lover!”

“You’d better. If you need more resources, call me.”

Deadpool hung up and returned his phone to his pocket, turning to Derek. “What’s the plan?”

Derek looked to Stiles, who grinned, “oh, this is going to be just like old times. Let’s do this!”

***

Spider Man was strapped to a chair. This, in itself, wasn’t uncommon.

What _was_ unusual were his two captors, one of whom was staring at him with glowing red eyes. Spider Man flinched away, spotting the other man and recognising him as the one who’d managed to knock him out with… something?

His memory was a little foggy.

“I see our Spider is awake.”

Both men gathered before him, Red Eyes staring down at him in a way that almost made Peter want to shrink away, make himself smaller. It wasn’t a desire he was familiar with and he was entirely keen on never experiencing it again.

“It’s polite to ask someone before strapping them down to a chair, you know? What if it’s not my thing?”

“We were banking on it,” Red Eyes said, the tone making Peter cringe, nerves alight. His spider sense was off the _charts_ , almost unbearable. Just who was this person? He wasn’t anyone Peter had encountered before, he’d remember his horrible, dungeon smell.

“How very rude.”

“You’re not very smart, for someone who’s supposed to be a genius.”

“That’s very lovely, I’ll take that. I actually am considered above average level of smarts.”

“Enough.”

A third person entered the room and Peter’s senses almost _stilled_ , the power radiating from this person overwhelming his being. Peter wasn’t usually intimidated in situations like this, but this wasn’t a situation he’d ever encountered.

Excuse him for being nervous.

Red Eyes took a step away from Peter, surprising him as they turned to a regular human brown.

“I do hope they weren’t too nasty to you, Spider Man. You have to understand how _difficult_ it’s been to track you down though; this really was the only way.”

Peter stared at the woman. Her demeanour, everything _about_ her screamed evil, yet her words were carefully laced with sugar. Peter wanted to spit at her.

“Where are my manners, we know your name, yet you don’t know ours! You can call me Kate, Spider Man.”

He bit his tongue.

She gestured to her goons, for that’s what Peter had decided they were. Kate was clearly the brains here, brains and strength. As much power as Red Eyes emulated, Kate held it tenfold.

“These are Byron and Lock.” Byron being Red Eyes and Lock being the man who had managed to capture Peter successfully. He wasn’t bitter about that at all.

Something buzzing caught Peter’s attention, seeing a phone in Kate’s pocket. She retrieved it with a grin, Peter recognising it as his own. He frowned.

“Oh, good. Looks like someone’s noticed you’re missing. Someone called… _LittleRedSparky?_ ”

Peter frowned, “he’s a friend.”

“Yes, quite, he’s asking for your help, rather. Pity. No one knows you’re missing.”

Kate looked down at Peter with a sneer that could rival Thanos, her eyes stone cold, no love in her being. “You, my darling spider, are going to help me.”

Spider Man had heard that before. His answer was always the same.

“And why would I do that?”

“Because if you don’t, sweet cheeks, I’ll blow up your precious New York.”

Ah.

***

“What is he doing?”

Stiles shrugged at Wade, who was also apparently _Deadpool_ , who they’d all had dinner with the other night (but it’s fine, Peter’s Spider Man apparently so there’s that).

“He’s going to help us find Peter.”

Derek was frowning though, and Stiles’ heart sank. Derek frowning was never a good sign. Derek may not smile much, but he _rarely_ frowned unless he meant it.

“Come on, Derek, you’re killing me here. Is Spider Man alive?”

“He was when he was kidnapped. By a witch.”

Stiles grimaced. Deadpool made a noise.

“A witch? This just became so much more exciting!”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “do you know what a witch is?”

“Never met one, but I’ve met sorcerers and they’re kinda the same, right?”

“Not even close.” Derek muttered.

Stiles sighed, ok. They could do this. They knew they were dealing with something more familiar to _them_ now. Not an Avenger level threat. It was a Scott level threat. Manageable.

Except this Scott level threat had stolen multiple weaponry devices and an entire human being for an unknown purpose and it was beginning to seem more like an Avenger level threat.

Once Derek had scouted out as much as he could, they headed back to their apartment with Wade in tow. He was just as anxious about the lack of leads at Stiles was, concerned about his friend. Stiles was mildly impressed. He’d heard stories about Deadpool, the merciless mercenary, though this man was nothing like he’d imagined. He genuinely seemed to value Peter’s safety.

The moment they were inside, Stiles began compiling a list of information they knew already about witches. He combined his notes and was able to fill in the blanks for the mysterious thefts.

Witches could teleport.

Derek had found residue from the teleportation spell, and a powder that was used to knock Spider Man out. Stiles added everything to his cork board.

He got Derek to pull up a list of possible hide outs – witches didn’t have a huge range in terms of teleportation, it needed to be nearby. People would notice if someone were carrying an unconscious Spider Man, so they had to teleport directly into their hideout.

He had Wade cross check against Derek’s list with places he knew personally would be a good hideout place, it was a start.

Meanwhile, Stiles began hacking.

He texted his online Peter, though he received no response (it wasn’t that uncommon, Stiles wasn’t concerned). He had kind of hoped he might be able to help save Spider Man, in his own charming way.

It wasn’t difficult to hack into Spider Man’s personal files at Stark Industry, though finding what he needed did take time. It was time he didn’t feel he had. He needed to find Peter and _soon_.

Whatever magic the witch had put on Spider Man’s suit, it wasn’t permanent. Technology had a way of breaking through spells and Stiles was banking on that. He (after several _hours_ ) managed to get it back online.

Finally.

He collapsed against the chair angrily.

The tracker chip still wasn’t working.

“Did Peter have his phone on him?” Wade commented, clearly thinking aloud. Stiles hadn’t considered it though. It was just… too easy, wasn’t it?

The data was skewed, but he was able to pull up a 5km radius of where Peter’s general location _should_ be. It was a start.

“Derek, any of your places match mine?”

The werewolf hopped up from the floor and brought his potential buildings with him. Stiles’ head snapped up, pulling up the transport route from the truck and cross referencing that with the radius. He knew where Peter was.

“Let’s go.”

***

“Did you know Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore? I’m a bit offended, honestly, he’s just doing his best, you know?”

Kate groaned loudly, as did her gun holding goons. Really, why did they need guns? Red Eyes had already proven his strength was superhuman and Lock managed to vanish into thin air before. Were guns really necessary?

“I’m beginning to tire of this.”

“Oh, really? Honestly, I’m surprised it’s taken you this long.”

Kate clenched her teeth. Peter heard it.

“Get up.”

Peter reclined in his chair, “nah, I’m comfy here. But thanks for asking.”

“I didn’t.”

Byron appeared and hoisted Peter to his feet, snapping the ropes that’d tied Peter down as though they were yarn. Peter winced. That was going to leave a bruise.

So was the punch that knocked him to the floor.

Spider Man was on his feet in a second, dodging the next punch and hurling his own. Three against one. He’d fought worse odds.

Byron and Lock put up a valiant effort, though Peter had to say he was better. He was just that _good_. Plus, he had some pent-up frustrations about being kidnapped and strapped to a chair and forced to endure Kate’s evil planning.

“That’s enough of that,” Peter didn’t immediately see what Kate was doing until it was almost too late.

She’d pulled out what could only be a detonator.

Presumably attached to a bomb.

“You wouldn’t, in case you’ve forgotten, you’re in New York.”

She shrugged.

Great.

“I don’t even know why you need me.”

“Simple, really. I couldn’t very well kidnap Tony Stark, now could I? He’s supposedly one of the smartest people alive, you’re the best I got. I need you to create the ultimate weapon.”

“I’ve heard that before.”

“I’m sure you have.”

Peter didn’t approve of Kate agreeing with him.

Kate waved a hand and Peter found himself being dragged towards what he assumed was Kate’s attempt at a lab desk. Pitiful, really. A microscope and a couple petri dishes were _not_ adequate. He wasn’t exactly about to tell Kate that though.

A clawed hand was suddenly in Peter’s face and he jumped, staring up at Kate in surprise. She hadn’t had those claws a moment ago, he was sure. He’d been assessing her, calculating the threat she posed (extremely high, she was crazy).

The claws dragged across Peter’s masked face, the man trying to move away from the clearly deadly claws.

“It’d be such a shame if we had to scar you…”

“I don’t scar easily.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure, darling.”

Peter really didn’t like this woman.

Kate gestured to the desk, Peter staring at her expectantly. She released a petulant, exasperated sigh. “I’ve already been over it.”

“Yeah, you want me to make some sort of mass dispersion of whatever funky issues you’ve got with your genetics so the rest of the city can become just as messed up as you. I got that part.”

Kate _snarled_ , the sound cutting to Peter’s core and making him flinch. It wasn’t _human_. He’d heard snarls before (he’d been around Bruce Banner in a lab) but never like this. He was hesitant to compare it to an animal, but it sounded positively _feline_.

Crazy, right?

“Right, yep, getting to work!”

“Give Lock a list of chemicals.”

Peter sighed; it wasn’t that simple! Clearly, she wasn’t a scientist. Nor particular smart. Sure, she’d managed where most had failed (to capture and withhold Spider Man) but she wasn’t going to get Peter to work for her. He’d learnt from Tony Stark, after all.

Instead, Peter gave Lock a list of the most harmless chemicals he could come up with (including sodium chloride and dihydrogen oxide) and sat at the desk, two sets of eyes watching ever individual twitch of his nerves.

“So…. What’s news?”

“Shut it.”

“Not a talker, Byron? Shame, because I am! Love a good conversation. Keeps my brain focussed, you know? It’s good, I can talk to myself for _hours_ , you don’t even need to say a word!”

He grunted.

Peter smirked below the mask. If there was one thing he could do, it was talking the ear off whoever thought they could handle it.

“I can’t work in silence though, _some_ one needs to talk, or you know, play some tunes. Big fan of AC/DC, me.”

“I’ll accept any rock, though. Need a head banger though.”

The silence stretched on and the spider just kept prattling on, watching as both Kate and Byron clenched their teeth, trying to tune out the incessant chatter. Peter, meanwhile, was working on a plan. Whilst they were trying to look everywhere but him, Peter was ever so carefully tweaking the instruments at his desk (some of which were materials from the stolen Stark tech). He wasn’t sure his friends would be able to find him, so his first order of business was to make a communicator.

He’d already accepted he needed help for this mission, he was physically outmatched, and Kate held the ultimate weapon (and she was ape crazy).

“For the love of all things _good_ , Byron get the man some music!”

Peter grinned.

Spider Man: 1. Kidnappers: 1 (they had still managed to capture him, after all).

Soon enough, he had both a bunch of fairly useless chemicals and some epic music playing. Peter looked up at Kate.

“Right, what _exactly_ do you need me to do. Obviously, you’re incredibly stupid, or you’d have broken into an actual lab for this, because these materials are _useless_.”

Kate curled her lip over her teeth, though it didn’t have the desired effect. Peter remained unaffected. “I want you to make an aerosol virus that will change someone’s DNA.”

What an idiot.

Peter nodded though, “firstly, this equipment _sucks_. Have you even watched a science drama? At least have some _pipettes_ as a bare _minimum_.”

Kate waved a hand to Byron, “he can get you what you need.”

“Secondly, anything that changes someone’s DNA isn’t actually _possible_.”

Except, maybe, a radioactive spider bite.

That’s when Kate _grinned_. The sight of which made Peter freeze. Abort, he’d played right into her hands here.

“Tell me, Spider Man, do you really believe that?”

Peter remained silent.

“I thought as much. See, you and I, we’re _alike_. So alone, so different. I just want others to be like me.”

Peter knew immediately what she was trying to pull, but he wasn’t having any of it. She needed to pull another leg, his was rigidly attached.

Kate stepped closer, startling Peter as her eyes _glowed_ , just as Red Eyes had done before. A vibrant, eery blue colour. Peter had never seen such a phenomenon and damn if he didn’t want to know more.

“You haven’t exactly told me what you _are_ though. Or how you became such. These are crucial details.”

Kate hummed, dragging her clawed hand over Peter’s shoulder, the man trying his best not to react to the unwelcomed touch. “I’m rather surprised you have to ask, but I suppose I’ll answer anyway. I am a Were Jaguar.”

Peter couldn’t help it, he laughed. He’d literally never heard anything so _stupid_.

“Next you’ll tell me your buddies are a sorcerer and chimera. That’s priceless.”

Kate stared at Peter though, her eyes still glowing, and Peter swallowed. She wasn’t kidding.

“You really are a Were Cat.”

“ _Jaguar_.”

“Hit a sore spot, did we? Sorry, pussy cat.”

He was grinning as she growled angrily, clamping her hand angrily on Peter’s shoulder and breaking skin. Worth it.

“If you _must_ know, Byron is a Were _Wolf_ , far more common then a Jaguar,” she said it almost _proudly_ as though being a Jaguar was actually a _good_ thing (and not something that absolutely should not exist). “You weren’t far off the mark with Lock, though. He’s a witch.”

Peter snorted.

Lock raised an eyebrow and created a flame in his palm.

Spider Man flinched. That actually explained so much. When he wasn’t in immediate danger, he was going to go back over his case with this new, _wonderful_ information. It changed so much.

“How did you become a Kitten?”

He wasn’t enjoying her claws, but he _was_ enjoying winding her up. It might end poorly for _him,_ but it was keeping her distracted from the detonator in her pocket. A detonator Peter had been closely monitoring, listening to the mechanisms within ticking at exactly the same intervals. The moment anything changed, he was going to spring into action.

“Bitten.”

“An injection of the venom.”

“Yes.”

Peter sighed, “you do realise the problem with an _aerosol_ is that it can’t be injected right?”

“Which is why we have _you_ here, Spider Man. You’re the brains. _You work it out_.”

Peter made a series of illegible grumbles, though turned to his desk with a pout. Not even a set of needles!

“Seriously, who’s idea was this? Literally the worst lab set up _ever_ , and I went to high school!”

He compiled another list and Byron set off, Peter returning to his inane chatter. At one point, the radio was turned up so loud Peter could barely hear the detonator, though it didn’t last. Apparently Were Jaguar’s hearing being just as sensitive as Peter’s, something he tucked away for future use.

“How long will this take, Spider Man?”

“Why, you worried someone will notice my absence?”

Kate rolled her eyes, “you’re a public menace, no one will even notice you’re gone.”

Peter caught her double meaning and frowned, “you know, it’s actually better _not_ to tell your prisoner you’ll kill them either way, doesn’t make me wanna help you anymore.”

“Oh, I know. But the threat of the bomb, versus your death? I know your type. Seen it before.”

Damn if she wasn’t spot on the mark.

Byron returned some time later and Peter sighed, slowly getting to work on something that could be _feasibly_ a concoction of _something_. It wasn’t like he was surrounded by geniuses. he did have to take a blood sample from Kate which had been _entertaining_ , the woman trying to determine why he needed it at all (which, really, _how stupid could she be_? He obviously needed her DNA if he were to create _anything_ ).

Spider Man wasn’t sure how long he’d been working, but it hadn’t felt like awfully long at all. He was surrounded by three self-declared ‘Supernatural’s’, all watching him and breathing down his neck uncomfortably. They wanted him to hurry along, which was laughable.

Even if Peter were actually going to work on what they wanted, it would take at _least_ a month to get it finished, or at least testable. Morons.

As he worked with the chemicals (wincing as he saw an incredibly hazardous and highly toxic chemical included and steering well clear of it) he worked on a device that would _hopefully_ be able to cancel out the detonators signal. This really wasn’t his area of expertise and he really wished he had access to Stiles.

That gave him an idea.

“I need to use my phone.”

Kate laughed, as did her goons (packmates, apparently), “not falling for that.”

Peter actually rolled his eyes, trying to make it obvious through his mask, “well, duh, but I need help. I have a friend, on my phone.”

Kate seemed to consider this.

“You can monitor my messages; I won’t say anything nefarious. I just need an opinion.”

Kate nodded her head to Bryon, who had somehow got his phone. Peter took it and opened his chat with Stiles quickly, crafting what he _hoped_ was an inconspicuous text to his friend.

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _hey bud, you’re probs busy but I kinda REALLY need your help._

He put his phone down, Stiles wasn’t even _online_! But he needed Stiles. More then he’d ever needed him before. Stiles was the only one he knew (other then Tony Stark and he’d never hear the end of _that_ ) who was good with this stuff.

It was either Stiles or Stillinski, but he didn’t have his number. He could ask Derek, but there wasn’t a huge guarantee he’d be with Stillinski, or on his phone. They were agents, they were hopefully on Spider Man’s case (or they’d given up and just figured Spider Man would be able to take care of himself, or they’d have one less vigilante to worry about).

Several (painful) minutes later, Peter’s phone lit up and he made a snatch for it, grateful for the name who popped up. He would’ve been in real strife if anyone else had texted him. He assumed Deadpool would (correctly) know not to text him and Stark hopefully had no clue he was even being held hostage.

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _What kinda trouble you get yourself into, huh?_

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _not the time. No time. Help._

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _I’m kinda in the middle of something._

Peter let out a growl of frustration, of all times for Stiles to have finally caught a break with his own case, it just had to be when he needed him. It was fine. Stiles had an important job to do.

Yet.

RedBlueGenes35: _It’s kinda life or death._

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _alright, what’s up? Can’t talk long, we’re about to finish our case._

Peter tried as best he could to explain in the loosest terms he possibly could to Stiles whilst also still being able to get the message across. At no point did he mention what Kate was after, simply the technology. He needed help, but it wasn’t chemical related (no, he’d always been the one good with that stuff).

 _ RedBlueGenes35: _ _I hope you’re right, here goes everything._

 _ LittleRedSparky: _ _you may have to adjust the radius though, wouldn’t wanna take out all the power in the area!_

Peter supposed that wasn’t a horrible point. He really just needed to take the power from the detonator – or at the very least disrupt its signal. He wasn’t entirely sure that cutting its source wouldn’t lead to its detonation, so he needed to come up with a back up plan. That plan being beating up Kate to the point where she had no choice but to tell him where she’d hidden it.

Fool proof.

He got to work, multitasking like a _pro_ , organising his samples of – he wasn’t exactly sure _what_. He was willing to go with the scientific label of ‘goop’. They wouldn’t have any purpose.

“This is taking too long.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “you do realise it’s only been five hours, right? This sort of thing would usually take me at least a month.”

“I’m not waiting a month.”

“Yeah, kinda figured that.”

Kate snarled again; the effects lessened now that Peter understood why she sounded like a feline. Because she was. Apparently.

Peter was so close to having a working device though, _so close_. He just – he needed a second set of hands. He groaned. He wasn’t going to get that.

Instead, he did what Spider Man did best: he stalled.

“Would you really consider blowing up all of New York?”

“Yes.”

“You wouldn’t gain anything. You’d die too.”

“I’ve survived worse.”

“You, in good conscience, would kill all those people?”

“Yes.”

Peter was beginning to gain a sense of what kind of person he was dealing with.

A crazy one.

He sighed, returning to his work. Byron and Lock were watching over him, silent and imposing. Peter wasn’t terribly concerned about them. They were clearly just following orders. He could take them down; he was sure of it. He would’ve, too, if Kate hadn’t brandished her trump card so early.

She clearly knew the strength Spider Man possessed. She’d somehow heard of him before, at any rate.

Peter was starting to feel peckish though, which wasn’t helped when Byron returned from an outing with delicious smelling fries. His stomach grumbled almost pitifully.

“Bit rude.”

“Shut up, get back to work.”

Peter pouted, “I can’t work on an empty stomach.”

Kate scoffed, “if you’d been finished by now, it wouldn’t be a problem.”

“Yeah, cause I’d be _dead_.”

“Dead men can’t feel hungry,” Kate said simply, eating whatever she’d been given by Byron.

Peter sulked for a while, idly playing with his chemicals and trying to see which ones he could burn. It was almost entertaining, though the looming threat really put a dampener on his experiments.

He re evaluated his device, trying to see if he couldn’t fix it on his own, fiddling with the mechanisms and finally figuring out what he needed to do. Goodness knew no one was coming to help anytime soon.

***

“Who’re you texting?”

Stiles glanced up at Deadpool, then back at his phone. He wasn’t really keen to talk to his online Peter, not when the situation with Spider Man was so pressing and he couldn’t afford to be distracted, but Peter needed him. Who was he to deny a plea for help?

“Peter.”

Deadpool stilled, “what’s he need?”

“He wants to… make a device?” Stiles tilted his head, “to disconnect power?”

Deadpool cursed, “we need to go, _now_.”

“We can’t get there any faster, Deadpool. Traffics backed up.”

Deadpool was considering his options, Stiles could see it in his mask. They did need to get there quickly, Stiles agreed, but they would still be faster in the car then without it. Unless they’d somehow worked out how to teleport.

In the end, it was Derek who decided they’d be faster on foot. Stiles had rolled his eyes, though he had to agree. Deadpool was apparently just as quick as the werewolf, which was a bit rude, Stiles felt cheated. He couldn’t complain though, not when he made Derek carry him on his back for the run.

Eventually, they made their way to the site where Stiles was sure they were holding Spider Man. Deadpool beat down the door without pausing.

Stiles face palmed.

“Come on, lets get this over with.”

They headed inside, Stiles armed with his bat, Deadpool with his guns and Derek with… well, his natural defences were the best defences for him.

The building had the classic creepy and abandoned note to it Stiles was so used to, both from working with the FBI and from having Scott and the pack for several years.

As they entered another room, Derek held up a hand. He could hear them then. Deadpool abandoned them, stalking off in _the complete opposite direction_ , though Stiles had a distinct feeling he wasn’t ditching them. He was Deadpool, he got the job done.

Stiles and Derek both glanced to each other.

On 3.

***

Spider Man jolted when he heard the sound of a door crashing to the floor, startled by the sudden appearance of two familiar agents.

“FBI, on the ground!”

“Derek?”

Spider Man whipped his head around in shock, Kate _knew them_?

It was the perfect distraction though.

Spider Man whipped around, throwing a chemical vile at Byron, the liquids burning through his skin in what had to be a painful way. He used his distraction to deliver several _hard_ blows, knocking him to the ground and out cold.

Kate glanced at the unconscious wolf, then smirked, bringing the detonator to light. Peter panicked; he hadn’t gotten the device finished! He didn’t have time!

Derek didn’t stop at the detonator’s appearance though; he didn’t know what it was. He lunged for Kate, distracting her as she was thrown into the fight, dropping the detonator. Peter made a grab for it, though he was stopped by Lock.

He’d forgotten about the witch.

Stillinski threw a jar of – was that _sand_? – at the witch, smirking as he wailed, Peter suddenly free of whatever spell he’d been using. Unfortunately, he’d been hostage long enough for Kate to have hidden the detonator.

“Stillinski, over here.”

Spider Man went to his desk, ignoring the witch who was writhing (some of the sand had landed in his eyes and Peter had little sympathy).

“What do you need?”

“She’s got a bomb, we were right. I was trying to make a circuit breaker… but I needed help, I need a second set of hands.”

Stillinski nodded, “great, use mine. Let’s go.”

“Where’s Deadpool?”

“No idea, he went a different way.”

Peter hummed, though set to work on the device. He was rather pleased to have Stillinski’s eyes, he seemed to know exactly what he was doing. They worked well together, both knowing exactly what they needed to do.

Derek was losing though, Kate taking over and throwing him to the ground. Spider Man looked at Stillinski, who nodded. He had this.

Peter rushed over, flipping Kate in her surprise, though she recovered lightning fast.

Spider Man had fought stronger, though she fought _dirty_. She gripped, she threw, she punched. Spider Man was the distraction though. He just needed to keep her fingers off the detonator long enough for Stillinski to finish the circuit breaker.

“Have you forgotten about _this_?” Kate snarled, shoving the button in Peter’s face.

Spider Man recoiled, though only long enough to sweep Kate’s legs from under her, jumping up onto the ceiling and away from her reach.

“Have you forgotten about _me_?”

Peter looked up in surprise as Stillinski smirked, holding the completed circuit breaker.

Kate’s eyes narrowed, knowing immediately what it was. She’d seen Peter working on it before. She’d put the pieces together.

“You little _rat_ , you weren’t working at all, were you?”

Peter jumped down and stood next to Stillinski, who subtly pressed the circuit breaker button, the current in the detonator freezing. Peter really hoped it worked.

“Of course not, why one _earth_ would I ever work for my kidnappers? Honestly, if I’m smart enough to have caught your eye, I’m smart enough to work around it.”

“Kidnappers these days,” Stillinski said, grinning.

“They think they know everything,” Spider Man agreed.

Kate pressed the button with a grimace.

When nothing happened, Stillinski grinned, Peter laughed, and Kate pressed it again.

“Did I interrupt?”

“Deadpool,” Spider Man breathed out, hearing the voice but not seeing his friend.

“Hope you didn’t miss me, Spidey, sorry it took me so long! But man, gotta hand it to your baddies, you know how to build a bomb! Took me three whole seconds to disarm it.”

Spider Man laughed in complete hysteria. Trust Deadpool to know about the bomb.

Kate was growling now, detonator all but forgotten, crumpling into dust in her claws. Peter winced, though she was now surrounded by a rather impressive group. Spider Man was about to press forwards, though Stillinski swanned on through, grinning like a crazy person.

He swung his bat.

Kate went down.

“ _That_ is for everything.”

Derek actually offered Stillinski a high five, much to Spider Man’s amusement.

Behind them, Peter could hear Deadpool cheering, “yes, BAMF Stillinski!” Peter _still_ hadn’t worked out what that meant.

“Right, criminals. Prison. Thank you for your help, Spider Man, we can take it from here.”

Peter nodded blankly; he hadn’t really done that much. Stilinski had done the hard yards here, he’d somehow managed to find him too. It was a question for another time, who knew how long these supernatural’s were going to stay unconscious.

Deadpool waltzed over to Peter, looping his arm through his own, “it’s really good to see you, Spidey.”

“You weren’t worried, were you?”

“Course not, I had the help of a _werewolf_.”

“Don’t be so cheerful, I was held captive by a Were Jaguar. I win.”

Deadpool pouted.

All was right with the world again.

***

Peter flopped onto his couch dramatically, enjoying its simple comfort. Wade sat across from him, flipping through his phone and munching on the first food they’d found in Peter’s pantry. He heard his phone buzz and debated whether to answer it, though decided it was probably in his better interests to answer Tony Stark’s call.

“Hey, boss.”

“Peter, you alright?”

“Yeah, and I just saved New York, you’re welcome. Crazy thieves turned out to be crazy good at making bombs, but not much else.”

“Why’d they need you?”

Peter shrugged, “some stupid idea about creating a bioweapon. I didn’t make it for them.”

“Good kid.”

“Not a kid anymore,” even if he may have whined the words, making Tony laugh on the other end.

“You’ll always be a kid to me, kid. But I’m glad you’re safe. Wade with you?”

“Present! Got to hang out with Stillinski.” The way he said it, Peter realised there was something he was hiding. Something he thought was _hilarious_.

“He’s quite the young man, isn’t he? Particularly good looking if I do say so myself. Maybe don’t tell Stephen that though.”

“I heard that!”

Peter grinned, “he’s just wrapping up, he said he’ll pop around later.”

“Tell him I said hi, won’t you?”

The call ended and Peter collapsed limply on the couch. He wasn’t surprised to learn he had some rather unpleasant bruises on his skin, his healing abilities working to repair them quickly. Where Kate’s claws had dug into him, the wounds had unsurprisingly become infected. Peter had had to get Wade to wash them, unable to get good access to the wounds himself.

“Well, that was an interesting few weeks.”

“It’s over now, thankfully,” Peter said softly.

“Guess those two agents will be going back to wherever they live.”

Peter’s heart jolted at that; he hadn’t even had the chance to ask Stillinski if he wanted to go out. He wanted to ask. If anything, Stillinski’s display earlier had sealed it for him. A man who was intelligent _and_ could hold his own in a fight was definitely worth the second glance.

Plus, Stillinski and he had worked well together, and Peter really wanted to at least continue collaborating with him. Even if… even if Stillinski didn’t realise he wasn’t Spider Man.

Did Stillinski even realise Peter had been missing?

“He figured it out, you know.”

“What?”

Wade shrugged, “Stark called, agents were present. By the way, I’m a huge fan of agent Stillinski’s first name.”

Peter cocked his head, brain too exhausted to actually comprehend what Wade was trying to say, “huh? I thought Stillinski _was_ his first name.”

“I mean, his nickname is certainly short for Stillinski.”

Thankfully, Peter didn’t have to comprehend what Wade was trying to put forwards, there was a knock at the door. He hopped up and opened it, unsurprised to come face to face with two agents who came baring food.

Peter let them in happily.

“Case closed!” Stillinski said cheerfully.

Peter grinned, opening the food and sharing it around happily, “when do you guys get to return home?”

Stillinski shrugged, “hopefully in a couple weeks, we have a tonne of paperwork… apparently something about going off the books being a bad thing? Don’t worry, the office doesn’t care, because we beat Stark’s people to it.”

Peter grinned, “and you got to work with Spider Man.”

“We were from the start, it would appear.”

So, he had worked it out. Good for him.

He mustn’t care terribly, given he was in Peter’s house with food rather then cuffs.

“I also can’t return home yet because I seem to recall you asking me out to drinks.”

Peter grinned at that, trying to ignore how his heart stumbled slightly, aware now Derek was a Werewolf and could probably hear it (had been _able_ to hear it this entire time). No secrets around a Werewolf.

“I know the perfect place,” Peter said, already thinking about where he would take Stillinski.

They fell into a comfortable conversation, no mentions of their previous escapades. The day was behind them, the case closed. Peter had survived, the city had survived and somehow, he’d made two new friends along the way. Peter wasn’t going to complain.

There was an impressive amount of alcohol being consumed, Stillinski being the only one who was actually feeling its effects for the appropriate amount of time. He kept slurring and hitting Derek weakly, irritated by his sobriety.

Wade chose that moment to be _extra_.

“So, Peter… who were you texting whilst trapped, because it wasn’t me…?”

Peter’s eyes widened, “how did you…?”

Wade winked, “I have my ways.”

“Texting?” Stillinski asked.

Peter scratched the back of his head, “yeah, I, um, I needed help with the – with the device. Not my strong suit. So, I texted my friend. He’s an FBI too – you might know him.”

“You were, texting?”

“Kate really wasn’t very bright.”

“Agreed,” Derek chimed in, raising his beer bottle unhelpfully.

“If I recall, our dear agent Stillinski was helping someone with the _exact same problem_.”

Peter looked to Wade, then Stilinski, trying to work out what the hell Wade was trying to say. He was too exhausted for this.

Wade groaned, “oh come on! Derek, help a pal out plz.”

“I didn’t see Stiles on his phone,” Derek muttered.

Peter’s eyes widened, Stiles? _Stiles_?

“Your nickname is Stiles?”

 _Stiles_ shrugged, “yeah, my first name is too long. Why?”

“You wouldn’t happen to have an online chat name called _LittleRedSparky?”_

Stiles’ eyes widened, “goodness, Peter? _Peter,_ Peter?”

Peter laughed, throwing himself against the couch, “man, you are entirely _too_ drunk right now for this conversation. I can’t believe,” he cut himself off, glaring at Wade, “ _you knew?!”_

Wade grinned, holding his hands up in defence, “hey, blame Stark.”

Peter froze, “he’s the one who got them on the case. Oh, I’m gonna kill him.”

“Nah, you should thank him. He brought lover boy here for you.”

Peter went bright red, trying to hide himself beneath a couch cushion. He blamed Deadpool. He blamed Stark. He blamed himself for not seeing it. It was so obvious! Stiles and agent Stillinski _had_ to be the same person. An FBI agent moved in for a specific case that just so happened to be similar to the one Peter was helping on?

“Does the offer for a date still stand?”

Peter whirled his head around in surprise at Stiles’ words, “what?”

Stiles rolled his eyes, “you heard me, Spider Man. Peter. _RedBlueGenes35_. What name do you prefer?”

“Peter, just Peter is fine, Stiles. And yes. Yes, I’d really like that.”

Stiles grinned, “excellent, now if you don’t mind, I’m the only drunk person here and I need to pass out.”

***

Stiles groaned pitifully upon waking, the sunlight beaming in through the windows far too harsh, far too present. He tried to roll over, tried to bury his face into the couch, though it was to no avail. Stupid morning sun. stupid hang over. Why did he have to surround himself with supernatural people?

Speaking of.

Stiles blinked wearily as he looked around the room, taking stock of who was there. Derek had stayed the night, though he’d clearly been offered a change of clothes and a shower, wearing an outfit he would never be caught dead in otherwise.

Someone was moving about in the kitchen, presumably the owner of the apartment. Peter. Peter Parker. His online friend for many years. Partner in several crimes. The incredibly attractive young man who was just shy of being an Avenger, who had somehow managed to befriend a rather insignificant FBI agent over the years.

Stiles wanted to punch something; it was just so blindingly _obvious_. Of _course,_ Peter Parker had been his internet friend all along. They were similar in many ways, their jobs, their hobbies, their attitudes.

It was far too early for this.

“Sleeping beauties finally awake,” Peter’s voice called from the kitchen and Stiles couldn’t bring himself to wonder how Peter knew. He was a genetically modified spider, after all. Probably had the same abilities as the Werewolf sitting beside him.

Stiles had far too many unanswered questions and not nearly enough brain capacity.

Peter entered his living room and presented a plate to both his guests, the plates filled to the absolute brim with steaming eggs, bacon and pancakes. He grinned, grabbing his own plate that was filled just as full as Derek’s. Spider genes.

“The pancakes were Wade’s idea, he had to rush off for a job though.”

Stiles really didn’t want to think about what sort of job Wade ( _Deadpool_ ) was doing, he was far too impressed with the food. It hit the spot, eased his headache.

They talked as they ate, Peter and Stiles rambling on over the new investigative technologies they’d encountered, Peter finally able to tell Stiles more about his line of work. Stiles was thrilled, learning of the impact his long-term friend had had on Stark Industries. It wasn’t much of a shock to learn Peter was also remarkably close with Iron Man himself, though he supposed that was due to the larger shock that _RedBlueGenes35_ was actually Spider Man.

Spider Man being friends with Iron Man made sense. Spider Man being friends with Stiles Stillinski, less so.

Stiles was always defying the norms though. Look at who his best friend was (read: an unfriendly Werewolf who was secretly the biggest softy).

After they’d finished, Peter took the dishes and dutifully washed them, Stiles noticing the lack of a mechanical dishwasher. It surprised him, given how many other technological advancements his house had. He wouldn’t be surprised if there was an in-home AI like at Stark’s place.

“Can I offer you a change of clothes, Stiles?”

Stiles shrugged, looking down at his crinkled outfit with a sigh. It really _wouldn’t_ be a good look leaving in this state, people might get _ideas_. Stiles wouldn’t usually care, it was… well. Embarrassing really.

He wanted it to be true.

“Got anything that doesn’t have a ridiculous pun on it?”

Peter pouted, though jumped around to his room and ruffled through his closet, pulling out a dark blue shirt and some black shorts proudly.

Stiles was impressed, “honestly thought you’d given Der the only normal clothes you have.”

“I’ll have you know I’ve been known to wear suits,” the enhanced being said, shoving the clothes at Stiles.

“I’ll believe that when I see it.”

Peter grinned, “maybe I’ll take us to a fancy place for dinner sometime. Suit and tie.”

Stiles raised an eyebrow, “something tells me you wouldn’t know the first thing about fine dining.”

Peter laughed, taking it for the joke Stiles so clearly meant it to be (a relief, truly), “being friends with Mr Stark has it’s perks, I assure you.”

“Speaking of, aren’t you supposed to be working?”

Peter shook his head, “nup, gave me the weekend off. Something about needing a break. Doesn’t even want me doing a patrol.”

Stiles was grinning, trying to imagine _the_ Tony Stark telling Peter Parker not to go out and patrol his city, it was highly amusing.

“Anyway, showers through there, I’ll keep Derek busy whilst you’re away.”

“Good luck with that.”

Stiles disappeared into the bathroom, as plain as the rest of the apartment though still just as charming. Stiles got the impression Peter didn’t come from money, nor did he have much of it, though it didn’t surprise him. It was humbling knowing the Spider Man who saved the city was a regular, run of the mill guy.

Who also happened to be a genius and extremely hot.

He showered and dressed himself in the clean clothes, noting Peter was only slightly smaller than him which meant the clothes were just shy of being tight. His headache was slowly clearing, curtesy of the cocktail of painkillers Peter had dotingly provided for him without a word.

Peter had draped himself over the armchair, Derek reading his phone not far away from him. Stiles dropped dramatically into the sofa, where he’d slept the night before, jolting Derek who merely raised an eyebrow.

“You two don’t have work today?”

“Weekend.”

Stiles glanced at Derek, surprised he’d responded first, though he really shouldn’t be. Derek seemed to rather like Peter, if his efforts to save him had been anything to go by.

Peter made a dramatic movement, throwing himself further over the couch in what could only be described as attention seeking. Stiles raised an eyebrow.

“I hate days off.”

Stiles could understand that, he supposed. As someone who needed to keep his mind active constantly, he understood that. He could even agree.

“I haven’t seen much of the city yet, why don’t we make the most of it?”

Peter was off the couch in an instant, clasping his hands together. Stiles knew this had been his plan all along, though he wasn’t about to mention it.

“Splendid, will you join us, Derek?”

The Werewolf glanced up from his phone, Stiles realising he’d been reading a text from Scott (Stiles hadn’t told him everything was a-ok on his end, the alpha was probably concerned).

“Think I’ll do some reading back at the apartment.”

Stiles knew exactly what he was doing. He wasn’t a fool. He couldn’t help the small smile that graced his lips though, this was exactly why Derek was his best friend. Just one big softy beneath the cold exterior.

“I’ll bring you back some food.”

“That sounds good. Thank you, Peter, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again.”

Peter scrambled to help Derek leave his apartment, surprised with the abrupt departure. One minute, Derek was relaxed on the couch, the next he was leaving.

Once he was gone, Peter turned a small frown on Stiles, “did I do something wrong?”

“Nope, that’s just Derek. He’s giving us some time together, bless him. Don’t take anything he does personally.”

Peter relaxed, as Stiles knew he would, though he couldn’t seem to quite contain the excitement. Stiles could understand that.

“Where first?”

Peter shrugged, “how do you feel about heights?”

***

Peter had felt relaxed before, he’d felt calm, he’d felt _happy_ , but never quite like this. He’d looked out over the city before. He’d held a steaming hotdog in his hand before. He’d looked out at the sunset as the calm of the night washed over him pleasantly.

It had never felt quite like this before.

He’d had an amazing day with Stiles, as they’d both predicted they would. They’d visited the museum (strictly the science parts, as Stiles had requested a personalised tour and Peter was hardly one to refuse such a request). They’d eaten lunch in a rather fancy restaurant that Peter would never have gone to without Stiles.

They’d walked through central park, hand in hand.

 _That_ had been the highlight, up until right then.

Stiles was talking idly about his life in Beacon Hills, something Peter found himself positively enraptured by. He had so many questions, yet he’d also received so many answers. All those years of wondering exactly _why_ Stiles had asked such specific questions, it all made sense.

Peter found himself talking about his own path, his own genetic change. He talked about his friends. He talked about the Avengers, though he was pleasantly relieved when Stiles didn’t so much care, he knew them. He cared, if only because it seemed he was glad Peter had someone in his life to watch out for him. Not because he was in league with superheroes.

“What happens now?”

Peter hummed slightly, looking out as the last rays of sun touched the skyscraper they sat atop, feeling the comforting presence of Stiles’ hand in his own, how their hips were touching softly as they sat, legs dangling over the building ledge.

Stiles hadn’t even flinched when Peter had swept him up and swung them high above the city, hadn’t seemed remotely concerned about their position on the rooftop of the building. Peter hadn’t realised how important that trust would be until he’d been granted it.

“Whatever we want,” Peter replied softly, turning to look at Stiles.

“What do _you_ want?”

Peter supposed he knew the answer to that, though he wasn’t entirely sure how to respond. It wasn’t because he was afraid of Stiles’ answer, he had an idea what he’d say. It was just… well, he’d never really done this before. Never had feelings quite so strong for another person before. He’d never _wanted_ someone to return his feelings quite so intensely.

“To do more of this. With you.”

Stiles smiled softly, “yeah, I think I could be ok with that. So long as there’s kissing involved next time.”

Peter blushed furiously as he said, “nothing stopping us now.”

Stiles grinned, hearing the small stutter in Peter’s words, “wouldn’t wanna fall off the roof.”

“That would be a bit bad.”

“Good thing I know Spider Man.”

Peter rolled his eyes, “no one would believe that.”

Stiles shrugged, “they’d believe I’m dating him even less so.”

Peter spluttered, at Stiles’ tone, the teasing note, the sly look in his eyes. Stiles knew _exactly_ what he was doing to Peter.

“Dating?”

“Isn’t that what we’ve just done all day?”

Peter was silent.

“Because that’s what _I’d_ like.”

Whatever words Peter had died in his throat as Stiles leaned in softly, ever so carefully, and pressed his lips softly to Peter’s.

Peter’s brain short circuited, forgetting the appropriate response, until Stiles’ hand curled up around his back and suddenly, he knew exactly where he was. He knew exactly what he wanted. What he _needed_.

 _Stiles_.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” Stiles said softly, drawing only slightly back, foreheads touching. His hand, the one that now held the back of Peter’s neck gently, moved slightly, shivers coursing through Peter’s body at the touch.

“Since the moment you walked into Stark’s building,” Peter mumbled, trying to work out how to speak once again. He usually prided his ability to talk, to make remarks, but right now, he was rendered somewhat speechless. He had Stiles to thank for that.

Stiles hummed, leaning closer and pressing their lips together again, “just the same.”

“Will you go back?”

Stiles drew back further, both hands pulling Peter’s to his chest and staring directly into his eyes, “yes, though… I think Derek found New York fairly interesting, and the branch here _did_ take a liking to us…”

Peter’s eyes widened, “you’d move here?”

“Not permanently, I mean, I have family, I have friends in Beacon Hills. Pack. But. Yes, I’d like to stay here, with you, Peter.”

“With me.”

Stiles smiled, “I think I knew I was going to be staying here since we met. Derek too. He’s been looking at houses, it’s what he was doing this morning.”

Peter blinked at that; he couldn’t quite believe what he was hearing. He looked back at the sunset, then at their joined hands and smiled.

“So long as you don’t try and capture Spider Man as part of your job.”

Stiles grinned, though it was just shy of a smirk, eyes sparkling, “far as I’m concerned, I’ve already caught him.”

Peter made a noise as Stiles captured his lips once more, forgetting they were many, _many_ meters above the ground and pushing back against Stiles.

“Maybe not here,” Stiles said, pulling back and holding Peter’s cheek softly.

Peter smiled, “best not.”

They didn’t leave immediately, nor did they take the short way back. They stayed above the city, above the noise, for hours after the sun went down, until Stiles began to feel the cold, until Peter began to yawn.

Peter took them back to his place, offered Stiles a change of clothes once again and they fell into bed together, lanky limbs jumbled up as they slept in each other’s arms for the first of many nights.

And if, when they woke up it was to gaze into each other’s eyes for longer then strictly necessary, to simply smile at each other, wrapped up in the warmth of the other man, well. No one was around to tell them off.

They had all the time in the world together, even if sometimes Peter got himself into mortal peril, Stiles would always be there to get him out, with a handy Werewolf and Deadpool at his side. And when Stiles was called away to Beacon Hills for an emergency, Peter would go with him, would be by his side wherever he was needed.

And, after 7 years of dating, 7 years of laughing at their ideas, laughing at their foolishness, enjoying each other’s company, helping each other wherever they could, they tied the knot.

Peter walked down the isle with Tony Stark at his side, Stiles with his own father. Wade stood happily as the ring bearer (he’d refused to be anything else for his best friends’ wedding), Derek as Stiles’ best man.

They weren’t perfect, how could they be when one was married to Spider Man? But they did their best, they fought for each other. They had a family to support them. They had the Avengers at their side, they had a Beacon Hills pack.

They had a future, and they’d do it together.


End file.
